


Moving Forward

by Chanel19



Series: What Winning Looks Like [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanel19/pseuds/Chanel19
Summary: This is a sequel to From the Ashes. Ron and Hermione and Harry and Ginny continue to rebuild their lives after the war.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: What Winning Looks Like [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693159
Comments: 40
Kudos: 68





	1. A Summons

Ron and Hermione were having breakfast Saturday morning when her owl, Xerxes, arrived with the post. Ron stood to let him in the window and pulled the letter off his leg before giving him a treat. Xerxes took it happily and flew through the house to the study where his perch was.

Hermione set down her tea cup. "Who's it from?"

Ron looked at the envelope. "It's from the Ministry, but it's addressed to both of us."

"That's weird."

They heard the Floo activate in the parlor followed by, "Oi!" Harry stepped into the kitchen with a letter in his hand. "Did you two get this invitation?" He was still in his pajamas and his hair was sticking out in all directions as though he'd just gotten out of bed.

"Yeah, but only just. I haven't had a chance to open it." Ron tore open the envelope and looked at the letter. "What?" He handed it to Hermione.

She skimmed it quickly and said for the second time that morning, "That's weird."

"Right?" Harry said.

Ron scratched at the morning stubble on his cheek and stood to put his empty plate in the sink. "Why would Shacklebolt be inviting us to Shell Cottage this evening?"

Hermione looked at the envelope again. "Why is this so cryptic?"

"And why didn't they give us more notice. Ginny's coming home this afternoon. I spent most of last night getting the house ready."

Ron looked at him. "Don't you mean Kreacher spent most of last night getting it ready."

Harry shrugged. "I did some stuff."

Hermione reached for the tea pot. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

"Sure," Harry sat down at the table next to her. They heard the Floo activate in the parlor again.

"Ron?" Bill called from the parlor.

"In the kitchen," Ron said.

Bill walked in a moment later. "Oh, good, Harry's here. Did you lot get invited to ours tonight?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "What's that about?"

"Right," Bill said. "I understand why he didn't want to say in the post, but I figured you three might be wondering. Could I get a cup of tea?"

Hermione poured him one, and he and Ron both sat across from Harry and Hermione.

"So, what's this about then?" Harry said.

"It's about that business at Gringotts."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all exchanged glances. They'd been waiting for this. Ever since the break-in and Voldemort's demise the Ministry had been negotiating with the goblins at Gringotts over what to do about Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Initially, Harry and Hermione had had their assets frozen. Ron didn't have an account, so they couldn't do much about him but deny him the right to open one. As soon as Shacklebolt became Minister of Magic, he convinced the goblins to release the assets, but aside from that initial victory, the goblins had been going back and forth with the Ministry about proper restitution. Their original stance was that the trio should serve time for theft and destruction of property. The Ministry was adamantly opposed to that idea. Negotiations had been on-going for the last year. Bill had to submit to questioning under Veritaserum to prove to the goblins that he knew nothing of the plan to rob Gringotts. Once the goblins were satisfied that Bill had been in the dark the whole time, they agreed to let him work on the negotiations.

Hermione nervously twisted the napkin in her lap. "What was decided?"

Bill smiled. "That's for the Minister to tell you, but I will say this, it's the best possible outcome for the three of you. It's not perfect, but I think you'll be pleased." He took a long drink of his tea.

The three of them exchanged glances again.

"Okay then," Harry said. "Ginny is coming in this afternoon. Is it all right if I bring her?"

Bill set down his tea cup. "Sure. Actually, Dean and Luna will be there too, as will Mr. Ollivander."

"Really?" Ron said. "Why? They didn't break into Gringotts."

"True. They're actually invited to come out a bit later than what your invitation says. The Minister wants to deal with the Gringotts business first, and then he's got something else that applies to all of us."

"Okay," Hermione said. "May we ask what?"

Bill smiled. "No. And before you ask, I really don't know. Well, I need to get back. As it turns out, Fleur goes a bit mental when the Minister of Magic announces he'll be having a meeting at our house."

"Too right." Hermione nodded.

"Yes, well, I'm off," Bill headed for the fireplace.

When they heard the Floo activate, Ron turned to the other two. "Bloody hell. I'm going to need to go to the market."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "Aren't you always the one reminding me that we have a house elf to do that?"

"No. I need to do this myself."

"Why?

"I just do. I'm going to get dressed." Ron went upstairs and Harry and Hermione exchanged confused glances.

xXx

At six o'clock that evening, Ron and Hermione Apparated on to the beach in front of Shell Cottage. A crisp September breeze blew in off the ocean. Ron checked to make sure the contents of the bag he brought with him had arrived intact, then looked around. Except for their brief visit the night they came to tell Bill and Fleur that Greyback had been killed, they hadn't been back there since they'd stayed after escaping from Malfoy Manor.

Ron looked at Hermione who stood staring out to sea. "Are you all right?"

She continued watching the waves. "Of course."

"Lots of memories in this place."

"Yes."

He reached for her hand. "We should go in."

She laced her fingers with his. "Right."

Fleur opened the door as they approached the cottage. "Come in, come in. The others are already here."

Ron wasn't sure what she was making for dinner, but it smelled amazing. Fleur took that whole French cooking thing very seriously. He'd never eaten anything she'd made that wasn't delicious. "Dinner smells great."

She chuckled. "I am glad you think so, but you will have to wait. The Minister is eager to get started."

Ron sighed. They followed her into the parlor where Shacklebolt was waiting along with Bill, Harry, and Ginny. After greetings were exchanged all around, everyone took a seat.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "I know you're all anxious to hear the resolution to the goblins' complaints against you, so without further ado, here is the agreement." He handed Harry, Ron, and Hermione each a long piece of parchment. "As you can see, they've twisted history a bit to fit a narrative they're more comfortable with, but in agreeing to allow them to do so, you three are now free and clear of any wrong doing."

Hermione frowned. "They've made Griphook into a hero?" She read faster than either Ron or Harry.

Ron skimmed the document. "They what?" 

"Seriously?" Harry scanned his own document.

"They want a statue?" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" Ron and Harry both said.

"Stop reading so fast," Ron grumbled. "Oh, bloody hell, I see it now."

"With Griphook leading us?" Harry shook his head. "That little bastard."

Shacklebolt held up his palms. "I know. I understand, but did I mention it clears the three of you of all wrongdoing?"

"Look," Bill chimed in. "I know the statue is probably misleading, but if it looks like Griphook let you into the bank, because he knew Voldemort was evil and needed to be dealt with, then the goblins don't lose face with their clients. Otherwise, three teenagers and a rogue goblin broke into their supposedly impenetrable bank and stole valuable artifacts."

Hermione sighed. "It's not as if we could have done it without him."

Ron tossed his document on the coffee table. "But to suggest he led us, when he was so bloody awful, and then left us there to die after he snatched the sword."

Harry scratched his head. "Right. But if it gets us off the hook, does it really matter?"

"Not to me, it doesn't," Hermione said. "I just want it over with. I feel like this has been hanging over our heads for ages."

Ron scowled. "I don't like it, but I do see your point."

Hermione continued reading. "Oh, so we can actually go into the bank again without using an intermediary. That'll be nice."

"Yes," Shacklebolt said. "I can imagine that will be much more convenient."

"Definitely," Harry said. "I'm sure your dad was getting tired of doing all our banking."

"No doubt," Shacklebolt said.

Ron picked up his copy of the document and read to the bottom. "Huh, so I can finally open my own account."

Shacklebolt nodded. "So, the terms are acceptable then?"

They all three nodded.

"Fantastic. You'll just need to sign your parchments." Bill gave them each a quill and set a bottle of ink on the coffee table.

A moment later Shacklebolt put the signed copies into a large red box. "Perfect."

There was a knock on the door.

Fleur went to answer it and a moment later Dean stepped into the parlor followed by Mr. Ollivander and Luna who were arm-in-arm.

After another round of greetings, everyone took their seats. Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "Now that we've resolved some of the thornier issues of the war, we at the Ministry felt it was time to start doing some more public recognition.

"You already did the paintings, sir," Hermione said.

"Right you are, but those are inside the Ministry. We did that because goblins don't generally go there, and we wanted some immediate recognition, but now that your names have been completely cleared, we thought it was time to do a bit more."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all glanced at each other.

"Such as?" Harry asked.

"Well, as you've already seen, the goblins want a statue of you three with Griphook inside Gringotts, but in addition to that, there will be one at Hogwarts without Griphook. Also, the magical community in Godric's Hollow has asked that there be one of just Harry there. Like the current memorials in Godric's Hollow, it will be Muggle shielded.

"But Hermione was with me in Godric's Hollow. She saved my life after the events there. She should be—"

"No," Hermione said. "It should only be you."

Harry shook his head. "That's not right."

Hermione gave him a tight smile. "Can I see you outside for a tic, Harry?"

"Fine." Harry followed her outside and closed the door behind them.

All eyes shifted to Ron. "What's that about?" Shacklebolt asked.

Ron smiled awkwardly. "Well, who can tell, really?" But he knew it was about him, and it made him sick to think about it.

Fleur got up to check on dinner. Ron picked up the bag he'd brought with him and followed her. "Hey, I brought replacements for the stuff I stole."

Fleur looked confused.

"You know, when I left to go back to Harry and Hermione."

"Oh, you didn't need to do that. It's not as if we didn't recognize it was for a good cause." She opened the oven and then cast another charm.

Ron's mouth watered at the aroma wafting from the oven. "Still, I took it without asking." He pulled a fresh boule of bread out of the bag and handed it to her. Then in quick succession he pulled out a bottle of olive oil, a bottle of garlic powder, a box of salt, and a box of pepper and set them all on the counter."

Fleur smiled and shook her head. "You really needn't have worried. I was happy you took them."

"Well, they certainly improved meal time, I can tell you that."

"Good. From what you've seen eating was a challenge out there."

Ron nodded. "That it was."

xXx

Outside, Hermione stormed down to the water's edge. When they were finally out of earshot of the cottage, she turned on Harry. "Are you mad?"

He frowned at her. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"You want a statue of just you and me in Godric's Hollow?" She shook her head in utter disbelief.

"You were there!"

She rolled her eyes, her mind boggling at how thick he was being. "Yes, but how would that look to posterity?"

"Posterity?"

"Yes. I testified under Veritaserum to put the whole issue of you and I as a couple to rest, and now you want to have a statue of just the two of us erected in your birthplace. No!"

"It wouldn't be like that." He sighed. "It's not like it's going to be done from life. No one saw us, and even if they did, we were under glamour spells. They won't have us holding hands."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "And when people want to know why Ron isn't part of it?"

Harry frowned. "He wasn't there."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm well aware of that, but with the exception of Ginny, Bill, and Fleur, no one else is. A statue of just you and me would raise too many questions and could be misinterpreted over time. We can't do that to Ron. So absolutely not."

He shook his head. "It's not fair though. You were there. You were always there. That should be honored."

"I have been honored," Hermione insisted. "I'm in the paintings. I'll be in the other statues. That's plenty. Too much in a lot of ways."

"It's not too much. It's not even enough, but I see your point."

She put her hand on his forearm. "Thank you."

"All right, fine. Let's go back in." He started back to the cottage.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and followed him.

xXx

When Harry and Hermione came back into the parlor and sat down, Harry said to Shacklebolt, "A statue of just me in Godric's Hollow will be fine if that's what they want."

He ignored the looks being cast between the other people in the room.

"They do." Shacklebolt pulled a plaque out of the red box and handed it to Bill. "Which brings us to our last bit of business. I'd like to place this plaque on that big stone next to your gate."

"Our gate?" Bill said.

"Yes."

Bill read out loud:

In this house, during the Second Wizarding War, William and Fleur Weasley provided sanctuary to the following:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ronald Weasley

Garrick Ollivander

Luna Lovegood

Dean Thomas

Griphook

The Ministry of Magic honors their bravery and compassion.

Bill looked at Fleur. "I don't know what to say."

"Of course, you can place it on the stone," Fleur said, blinking back tears, and squeezing Bill's hand.

Shacklebolt nodded. "Thank you. I'm sure others will be commissioned over time, but this is a good start." He stood. "I need to be getting back. I'll place this on my way out."

"Can't you stay for dinner, Minister?" Fleur asked.

"I wish I could. It smells delicious, but alas, duty calls." He shook hands with everyone before heading out into the night.

"Well," Fleur said, as she closed the door behind Shacklebolt. "Will the rest of you join us?"


	2. Long Unanswered Questions

Everyone followed Bill and Fleur into the kitchen, and took their places around the long wooden table, where they'd had so many meals the previous year.

Dinner started with a simple spinach salad followed by cassoulet with a bright, fruity red wine.

"Fleur your cooking gets better every time I eat it," Ron said. "This is wonderful."

"It really is," Hermione agreed.

Fleur smiled as the compliments continued around the table. Conversation was mostly catching up on everyone's lives since the war. Luna was studying Magizoology as a Hogwarts extension student and was spending a great deal of time doing fieldwork. Dean was still working as an artist's apprentice under a famous portrait artist. Ollivander had, to the relief of the entire magical community, reopened his shop. Ginny told a funny story about flying with the Holyhead Harpies. Harry and Ron told some stories about their work as Aurors, and Hermione talked about the latest goings on in House Elf Relocation. It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. When the cassoulet had been cleared, Bill suggested they take dessert in the parlor. Everyone headed out of the kitchen.

Ollivander declined dessert. "I'm getting old. A little wine and rich food does me in for the night I'm afraid. I'll leave you young people to it." Luna walked him out.

Fleur passed around dessert plates of a fruit tart with a sliver of soft cheese.

Bill poured glasses of a light Reisling for anyone who wanted it. As everyone tucked in to their dessert, Bill set his on the coffee table. "Now that it's all over, can we finally get the full story of what brought you here and what happened when you left?"

Harry and Ron looked at Hermione, who blanched and set down her plate. Dean and Luna looked at each other. Eventually, they all looked at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat. "You know most of it already. I'm not sure what you want us to say."

"Where were you before you came here?" Bill asked.

"Malfoy Manor," Luna said softly. "I was there for days on my own. Then they brought in Mr. Ollivander."

"We weren't there long at all," Dean said. "Only around an hour, I think."

"Long enough," Harry said.

Hermione took a drink of wine.

"Too long," Ron said grimly.

Fleur nodded. She had healed many of Hermione's injuries when they'd brought her into the cottage.

"And when you left here, you broke into Gringotts?" Bill asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

"How did you manage that?" Bill asked.

"Polyjuice potion and glamour charms," Ron said. They still never talked to anyone else about Harry's invisibility cloak.

"Polyjuice potion to look like who?" Fleur asked.

Ron glanced at Hermione, who was staring out the front window and sipping her wine. "Bellatrix LeStrange."

"How did you—?"

"One of her hairs was on Hermione's jumper," Harry explained.

"So, Bellatrix was at Malfoy Manor?" Bill said. "Is she the one who—?"

"Yes," Dean answered. "Horrible woman."

Luna nodded. "Truly awful."

"Bloody hell," Bill said. "That was insanely risky."

Harry nodded. "Our plans usually are."

"I saw the damage done to the bank," Bill said. "Is it true you escaped on a dragon?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Harry's idea."

Harry shrugged. "It was the only option."

"What was that like?" Dean asked.

"Rough," Ron said. "The dragon was old and mostly blind. We had to keep casting blasting spells to make room for him to escape, but we had to hang on too, which wasn't easy given the state of our hands."

"What was wrong with your hands?" Fleur asked.

"They cursed the treasure in the vault with Gemino and Flagrante," Harry said.

"Everything we touched grew hot and multiplied by twenty. It wasn't long before the whole vault was full of burning hot metal," Ron explained.

"It was pretty awful," Harry said.

"Hermione took the worst of it," Ron said. "She was in a dress." Fleur, Ginny, and Luna all pulled horrified faces and clenched their legs together. Harry looked at him sharply but then looked away.

"No," Fleur gasped. "That must have been excruciating."

Hermione closed her eyes. "It wasn't good. I did manage to cast Impervious over all of us, which helped some."

"Helped?" Ron scoffed. "Kept us alive more like. Before she cast it, one of those bloody goblets touched my shoe and burned right through the leather."

There was another gasp and more uncomfortable shifting in the room.

"So where did you take the dragon?" Bill asked.

Harry snorted. "We didn't take it anywhere. It took us to the Lake District, and when it flew low enough, we dropped into a lake."

Ron shook his head. "So, we broke into a bank, got burned, and then almost drowned. Bloody awful day."

Harry shrugged. "I've had worse."

Everyone looked at him. Ron laughed and then everyone was laughing, even Hermione. Ginny, who had been exceptionally quiet all evening, turned to Bill. "I think we need another drink."

Bill got up and went into the kitchen. He brought back a bottle of Ogden's and a tray of shot glasses.

"That's the ticket," Ginny said. Everyone but Fleur took a glass. Ginny held up her shot. "To my insane fiancé, my mad brother, and his mental wife."

Everyone laughed and clinked glasses before downing their shots.

Luna coughed and stood. "As much as I've enjoyed this evening, I really have to be getting back. I told Rolf I wouldn't be late. He and I are going out to meet his parents in the morning."

"Ooh," Ginny said. "Must be getting serious if you're meeting the parents."

Luna blushed. "Must be. Anyway, goodnight all." Everyone hugged her before Ginny walked her out.

Dean stood next. "I should be going too. I told my mother I'd come out to her place tonight. I promised I'd paint her parlor in the morning."

"Something fancy?" Ron asked.

Dean chuckled. "No such luck. My mum thinks it's nice that I'm working on portraits, but to her, the best kind of painter is the one who puts white on walls."

Everyone laughed and then said their goodbyes with handshakes and hugs.

"Hey, Ron, could you walk out with me?"

"Sure." Ron followed Dean outside. Ginny was coming back in as they were heading out. She hugged Dean goodnight.

xXx

Outside, Dean turned to Ron. "When I got the invitation for tonight, it got me thinking about my time here. I was looking through the sketch pad I used back then and found this." He pulled what looked like a small tile out of his pocket, touched his wand to it and it expanded into a framed drawing of Hermione sitting on the dunes reading a book. "I thought you might want it."

Ron smiled at the drawing. Dean had captured her perfectly. "Thanks mate. This is fantastic. I love it."

Dean smiled. They shook hands and then Dean Disapparated.

Ron touched his wand to the frame and shrank it again before sticking it in his pocket. As he came back into the house, he could hear shot glasses clinking again, so it was going to be that sort of night.

xXx

After a couple more rounds of shots, Fleur stood and stretched her back. "I think you all should stay here tonight. None of you are sober enough to Apparate, and we're not on the Floo."

Harry yawned. "You're right."

Hermione nodded.

"Both guestrooms are ready." Fleur leaned down and kissed Bill lightly on the lips. "I'm going to bed."

"I'm right behind you." Bill watched her walk upstairs. "You lot need anything before I head up?"

"We're good," Ron said. "Go to bed. You look knackered."

Bill stood and stretched. "Yeah, it's been a long week. I'm glad the negotiations worked out so well for you three. I don't know how you always manage to land on your feet, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "I'm the Chosen One."

Bill chuckled. "Right. Goodnight."

When Bill had gone upstairs, Ginny started collecting glasses.

"Do you mind if we take the upstairs bedroom?" Hermione asked as she began collecting plates.

"Fine by me," Harry said.

"Sure," Ginny said.

"Thanks." Hermione took the plates into the kitchen. Ron filled the sink with warm water from his wand and added some soap. Ginny put the glasses and plates in to soak. She yawned.

"You must be exhausted from the trip in from Wales. Go to bed. I'll cast the rest of the charms," Hermione said.

"Thanks." Ginny and Harry headed into the little bedroom off the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

Hermione cast the spells for the dishes to wash themselves and then put themselves away. When she turned around, Ron was leaning against the doorjamb staring at her. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go to bed."

xXx

When they were upstairs in the bedroom where Griphook and Ollivander had once stayed, Hermione closed the door behind her and cast Impreturb on the room as she toed off her shoes.

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"I assume this is on your list."

He grinned. "Quite right." He kicked off his own shoes.

She smiled at him. "It's okay we're up here? The kitchen's not exactly appropriate and the little room downstairs was definitely out."

"Definitely." He would forever associate that room with the state she was in after Malfoy Manor, and he knew she probably would too. "This was the best choice."

She nodded and began unbuttoning her shirt.

Ron pulled his own shirt over his head and stilled her hands. "Let me do that." She dropped her arms and swayed slightly as he finished unbuttoning her shirt. He chuckled. "I think someone is a little drunk."

She nodded. "I probably shouldn't have had that last glass of wine or the two shots, but the conversation over dessert was upsetting."

"I know." Ron let her shirt fall to the floor and then took her hands in his and stepped back to sit on the bed. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay. We owed them an explanation."

"I'm still sorry."

She pressed her cheek against the top of his head. "Me too."

He dropped her hands and reached for the button on her jeans. As he slid them over her hips, he noticed the black silk underwear she was wearing. He rubbed the silk between his thumb and index finger. "This is such thin fabric."

She snorted. "No one buys silk underwear because they want something thick and bulky."

"That's is why you were sobbing."

"What?"

"On the dragon, you were sobbing, and then after, behind the curtain, you were whimpering and crying. It wasn't just your legs that were burned."

She blew out a slow breath. "No."

He pressed his forehead against her chest. "You healed those burns first."

"Of course, they hurt the most."

"You were in fresh underwear by the time I stepped behind the curtain."

"The other pair had mostly burned away."

"Fuck," Ron whispered. "Why didn't that occur to me at the time?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad it didn't. I don't think I could've handled that conversation in the midst of everything else. Besides, the Dittany took care of it."

He sighed and nuzzled against her. "If I'd known, I could have offered to kiss it and make it better."

"Right, because there was time for that. Not to mention, you hadn't even kissed my mouth at that point."

He chuckled. "I'm sure Harry would've understood."

"I'm quite sure he wouldn't have."

"You might be right." Ron slid her underwear over her hips and letting it fall to the floor. "We have time now though."

xXx

Downstairs, Harry and Ginny were getting ready for bed.

Ginny sat on the bed and pulled off her shoes. "I think Fleur might be pregnant again." 

"What? Why do you say that?" Harry unbuttoned his shirt.

"She wasn't drinking tonight, not even wine with dinner."

"Maybe she just wasn't in the mood to drink."

Ginny arched an eyebrow at him. "She's French. Wine with dinner is like a religion with those people. I bet she's pregnant."

"Maybe, if so, I really hope it goes better this time."

"Me too." Ginny pulled off her socks. "She and Bill were both gutted last time."

Harry nodded as he dropped his pants. Ginny looked around the room. "Why didn't Hermione want to be in this room?"

"This is the room she shared with Luna."

"Then why wouldn't—"

"She recovered in here."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense then." She reached for his hand. "You three have been through so much. It's a little shocking when you think about it."

Harry sat next to her on the bed. "I try not to think about it too much, but on nights like tonight, when there are other people, and they want to talk about it, need to really, that's hard."

She kissed the back of his hand. "I know. I'm sorry Bill had so many questions."

"Don't be. He and Fleur deserved answers. They took care of us for weeks when we really needed it, and they didn't ask too many questions and didn't kick us out when we didn't answer the ones they did ask."

"They're good people."

"Even Fleur?" Harry winked at her.

She chuckled. "Yes, even Fleur."

xXx

True to his word, Ron had quite thoroughly kissed everywhere Hermione might have been burned until she lay sprawled out across the bed feeling light-headed and boneless. He crawled up next to her and kissed her shoulder. "You've been rather lazy so far considering this is on the list."

She tilted her head up and arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'm just saying, usually list sex is a bit more involved on your part."

She snorted at him. "Oh, please." She slid off the bed. "As if I don't know what the fantasy is." She leaned over and wiggled her butt at him. "Oh goodness, did I drop a sock?"

He rolled off the bed and behind her. "I love you so much."

Hermione gasped and pitched forward a bit. All the alcohol had made her dizzy.

Ron gripped her hips to keep her from falling over. "You all right there?"

"I'm a little dizzy."

"Don't worry." He pulled her more firmly against him. "This isn't going to take long."

She giggled.

xXx

At four o'clock in the morning, Ron woke from a sound sleep and sat bolt upright in bed. "Bloody hell!"

Hermione stirred next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Did you cast the contraception charm?"

Hermione rolled over on to her back. "No."

Ron threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. "No? Are you serious?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "I forgot." She yawned.

"You forgot?"

"Well, so did you."

He opened his mouth, but then closed it, and looked at her. "Why don't you care?"

She blinked at him. "I care."

"Then why aren't you freaking out?"

She sighed. "Honestly, I'm still kind of drunk. Besides, we're married, right?"

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "What aren't you telling me?"

She scowled at him. She didn't have a dressing gown, so she reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over her head before getting out of bed.

Ron drew back. It must be serious if she couldn't discuss it naked. He pulled on his boxer shorts. "I thought you wanted to wait."

She crossed her arms and looked at the floor. "I went to see a healer."

"What? Why? What's wrong?" Anxiety crept up his spine.

"Nothing, I mean, not really, well, kind of…"

"Hermione." He blew out a calming breath. "Why did you go see a healer?"

She shrugged, but he could tell she was upset. "I was just thinking about what you and Ginny said about how difficult it can be for magical couples to have children. I've taken a lot of magical damage over the years, what with the botched Polyjuice and being petrified for so long, that curse from Dolohov, and then what happened at Malfoy Manor, and the bloody syndrome that followed. I thought…well…I thought I'd better check to see if I could even have children."

He felt his heart sink.

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I probably should have gone before we got married. I know what having a family means to you."

Ron felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Not as much as you mean to me. So, what did the healer say?"

"She didn't think it was especially likely that we would have children."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's like I said. I've taken a lot of magical damage over the years. Actually, so have you, which doesn't help either."

"So, is it impossible?" He felt sick.

"No. Just not particularly likely." Another tear slipped.

"Oh. So, it could still happen." He took heart. The men in his family had a pretty strong track record in that regard.

She nodded. "Maybe."

"I'm a Weasley."

She smiled. "I know. Virile. I get it. Let's hope that holds true for us."

"Does that mean we aren't going to do the charm anymore?"

Hermione sighed. "I legitimately just forgot tonight. I've been meaning to talk to you about it, but I only got the results a couple of days ago. I needed to sit with it a bit, before I could talk about it."

"So, are you sure you want to stop doing the charm from now on? What if I get you pregnant tomorrow? Are we ready for that?"

She shrugged. "Is anyone ever really ready? I'll be twenty in two weeks. We've both got good jobs. We've got a house. We've got family. If I'm in the pudding club tomorrow, I promise, we'll be fine."

He grinned at her. "Challenge accepted."

She laughed and he hugged her.

xXx

Hermione fell back into a sound sleep, but Ron couldn't manage it. His head was swimming. He would doze off and then come awake thinking they might not be able to have children. Then he would doze off again and wake up thinking she might already be pregnant. At six o'clock, he couldn't take the anxiety anymore and slipped out of bed. He got dressed as quietly as he could and went downstairs to make a cup of tea. He was surprised to find a pot already made. He poured himself a cup and went outside to find Harry standing on the shore.

"You're up early," Ron said, as he walked down to the water.

Harry turned to look at him. "I thought some tea and fresh air might help my hangover."

"Yeah." Ron scratched at the stubble on his cheek. They both stood looking out at the waves and sipping their tea.

"You never told me Hermione was so badly burned in the vault."

Ron shrugged. "You had enough on your mind at the time, and we took care of it."

Harry shook his head. "Bloody awful."

Ron nodded.

"Ginny thinks Fleur is pregnant again."

"Really?" Ron wondered again if Hermione might be pregnant or if she'd ever be pregnant.

"She wasn't drinking last night. Not even wine with dinner."

"Ah. That is suspicious."

"Yeah." Harry ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "If she is, I hope it works out this time."

"Yeah, me too." Ron felt a whole new level of anxiety wondering if Hermione would struggle with pregnancy the way Fleur did.

"I can't imagine having a kid right now."

Ron eyed him. "Well, that's good, since you're not even married to my sister yet."

Harry frowned at him. "You know what I mean. I suppose you can't wait to get started on your brood."

Ron shrugged. "I'm not bothered either way."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ron tossed out the remains of his tea. "We have kids. We don't have kids. Makes no difference to me."

"Since when?"

Ron shrugged again. "Since always. Hermione and I are together. We're happy. That's what matters. If she's pregnant right now, that's great. If she's pregnant next week or next year or five years from now, great. If she's never pregnant, that's fine too. I'm not bothered."

Harry knew for a fact that Ron had always wanted kids. He used to joke in school that you had to have at least six to get a good one. To see him so casually blow off the idea of having children was disconcerting. "Is everything okay?"

Ron handed him his teacup. "Everything's fine. I'm going for a walk." He started off down the beach. Harry watched him go for a while before he went back inside to get another cup of tea. Hermione was in the kitchen making another pot.

"Have you seen Ron?" she asked.

"Yeah, he went for a walk." He set Ron's teacup in the sink.

She raised her eyebrows. "At this hour?"

Harry shrugged and rubbed his temples.

"Headache?"

"Too much to drink last night."

"Me too, so I popped home for some hangover potion. I brought extra. Want a bottle?"

"Please."

She pointed to the table where three little purple bottles were lined up. "I already took mine."

Harry popped the cork on one and downed the contents. The relief was immediate. "Thanks."

Hermione smiled at him. "You're welcome." She took her cup of tea and went outside.

The door to the downstairs bedroom opened and Ginny came out wincing against the light coming in through the kitchen windows. Harry handed her one of the little bottles, and she drank it down. "You're a god among men."

"You're the only one who sees it." They both laughed. "But you have Hermione to thank for the hangover potion. Tea?"

"Please." He poured her a cup, and she kissed his cheek. "How are you doing this morning?"

"Okay, I guess. The statues and memorials have me a little freaked out."

She nodded and sipped her tea. "I can understand that, but I don't see a way of avoiding it."

"Neither do I, so I guess I'll just deal with it."

"You are the Chosen One."

He let out a soft snort. "Right. Somehow, I used to think all that would go away if I could just defeat him, but it's never going to, is it?"

She shook her head. "It's not likely to, no."

Harry sighed.

"Luckily, you have a super-hot fiancé to take your mind off all that."

He grinned at her. "That is lucky."

"I know. I'm going to go drink my tea in the sunshine."

"Okay. I think I'll take a shower."

Ginny kissed his cheek and went outside.

xXx

Ginny sat down next to Hermione on the bench outside the cottage. "Good morning."

"Hi."

"Thanks for bringing the hangover potion. What a lifesaver."

Hermione smiled. "I popped home for it this morning. I figured, if you all felt like I did, we'd end up wiping out Bill and Fleur's supply."

"Smart."

Hermione let out a soft sigh.

Ginny looked at her. "You doing okay?"

Hermione gave her a weak smile. "Fine." Ron came around a bend in the beach and started walking toward them. Hermione didn't take her eyes off him.

Ginny could tell something was wrong, but she didn't want to pry. She thought perhaps they'd had a row. "I'm going to get some more tea. Want some?"

"No. I'm good."

Ginny went back inside.

Ron approached and took a seat next to Hermione. "Hiya."

"You were up early."

"Yeah, something about that sea air, I guess."

She looked at him, her brow wrinkling with concern. She leaned against him and sighed.

He put his arm around her shoulder. "I've been thinking. I say we give it five years. If we can't manage by then we'll start thinking about other options."

She nodded against his chest. "That sounds reasonable."

"Course, by then, you'll probably be Minister of Magic."

She snorted. "Right. Like that's ever going to happen."

"You never know."

She leaned back and looked at him. "You know you're not even allowed to run until you're at least fifty, right?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know that, but I'm glad you're planning ahead."

"I'm not planning—"

He laughed.

She swatted his shoulder. "You're impossible."

"Yes, dear." He pulled her closer.

Fleur came outside, rubbing her eyes and holding a cup of coffee.

"Good morning," Ron said.

"Tiens," she mumbled and sat next to Ron on the bench.

Ron looked at Hermione.

She smiled. "You know she only speaks French before caffeine."

Ron chuckled. "Oh, that's right."

They all three sat in silence as they looked out over the water.

After a few minutes, Hermione said, "Fleur, I was thinking that we should take Luna for a day out."

Fleur raised her eyebrows. "Yes, we said we would do that, didn't we?"

Ginny stepped outside. "Do what?"

"Take Luna for a girls' day out."

"Ooh, that sounds fun."

"You should come too," Fleur said. "It would be good to take a day."

"What's involved in a girls' day?" Ron asked.

"Oh, you know, a bit of pampering, a bit of shopping," Hermione said.

"What sort of pampering?"

"Mani-pedis, haircuts, a massage perhaps," Fleur said. "The usual stuff."

"Haircuts?" Alarmed, he raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

"Oh, calm down," she said. "At most, I might get it trimmed."

"Okay then, sounds like fun. I think I'll go inside and see if Bill and Harry want to talk about something manly."

Everyone chuckled.

After breakfast the women compared calendars and then Fleur sent Luna a letter with some suggestions for a girls' day out.


	3. A Day Out

Two weeks later, Hermione, Ginny, Fleur, and Luna all gathered for their day out at the Diagon Alley side of The Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had made reservations for them later in the day at a spa near Covent Garden that was run by a half-blood that catered to both communities. They walked through the pub and out the Muggle entrance into London.

The day started with shopping.

"Lingerie started the idea for this trip," Fleur said. "Should we start with that?"

"Bravissimo isn't far," Hermione said. "They start at a D cup though, so sometimes I have to use magic to size things correctly, but I do that anyway. Is everyone all right with that?"

"Sure," Luna said. "Although…

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Well, after our conversation, I started thinking about my underthings, so when I started dating Rolf, I got some pretty underwear and some pretty nightgowns."

"And did he like them?" Hermione asked.

Luna cocked her head considering. "Yes, but he always says to me, 'Luna that's lovely, now take it off.'"

The other witches chuckled.

"He sounds like Harry," Ginny said.

"Not Bill," Fleur said. "Bill loves lingerie."

"So, does Ron," Hermione added.

"Perhaps it runs in the family," Luna suggested.

"Eww," Ginny said. "I don't even want to think about that."

The others laughed again. In deference to Ginny not wanting to hear anything about her brothers, conversation switched to work and the news of the day.

They spent the next few hours in and out of the Muggle shops around Covent Garden, where they blissfully drew no attention. After a couple of hours, Hermione announced it was time to go to their appointment.

xXx

The spa was only a few blocks from Covent Garden in a small unassuming brick building with a simple sign that read: Time Out Spa: A Magical Experience. Hermione ignored the main entrance and instead lead the others into the narrow alley beside the building where there was a purple door with a lion painted on it. She pulled out her wand and ran it down the center of the door. The lion's eyes opened. "Yes?" he asked in a deep voice.

"We have a reservation for four witches, Granger party."

"Of course," the lion said. "Please come in." The door opened of its own volition. They all stepped into a warm room lit exclusively with fairy lights held by real fairies. Some were taking a break around a large bowl of sugar water.

A woman stepped through a beaded doorway. "Welcome," she said. "Come this way to the locker room, where you can change into bathrobes.

A few minutes later, all four of them exited the locker room in plush, white, terrycloth robes.

"If you'll follow me," the hostess said. "I'll take you to your massage rooms."

Fleur went in the first door, Ginny in the second, Luna in the third. The hostess turned to Hermione. "I understand you're doing the spa foot treatment instead?"

"Yes."

"If you'll wait here a moment, I'll see if they're ready for you," the hostess said.

Hermione took a seat on a plush purple velvet sofa and waited. On the wall across from her was what looked like a fish tank built into the wall. The tank was five feet high and ran all the way down the hallway, but she didn't see any fish in it. Hermione got up for a closer look, but Luna came out of the massage room, wide-eyed and panting.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think I can do this," Luna said.

The massage therapist came out of the room. "Is everything okay? Did you need the lavatory before we start?"

Luna gave Hermione a pleading look.

"My friend has decided she'd rather do the hot stone foot massage like I'm getting. Will that be okay?"

"Of course. Let me just tell the hostess." She went down the hallway and around the corner.

Luna gave Hermione a grateful look. "I don't know what made me think I could go in a dimly lit room, put my face down, and let a stranger touch me."

Ginny came out of her room. "Probably the same kind of insanity that made me think that. I told the masseuse I needed the loo, but I can't go back in there."

"Don't you get massaged after games all the time?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, by a trainer I know, in a bright room, on a table in a row of tables, next to my teammates. It's totally different."

Hermione nodded. "Foot massage okay? It's sitting up in a chair facing the person doing it, and they have the chairs set up together, so we can chat."

"That sounds perfect." Ginny stuck her head back in the room and explained the change to the massage therapist, who came out and went to tell the hostess.

"Do you think Fleur will come out too?" Luna asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I don't think Fleur's ever…well…Fleur's not us, is she?"

"No," Ginny agreed. "Thank goodness."

Luna only nodded.

"Right," Hermione said.

The hostess returned and led them to a row of chairs in a room with soft music playing. Hermione noticed that the fish tank continued into this room from the hall. The three of them got settled in their seats. Even though they could chat, they didn't. Each lost to their own thoughts as they had their feet massaged. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, she let out a little squeak. A green bearded merman was staring at her from the tank. He spoke in melodic Mermish, that she didn't understand. She could see Luna and Ginny looking as well. Luna's masseuse explained, "He wants to know why you switched from the full massage to the foot massage. Were you unhappy with the service?"

"No, of course not," Luna said. "We didn't even start."

"Me either," Ginny said. "Everyone has been really nice since we got here."

The masseuse turned back to the man in the tank and sang her reply in a clear, high soprano. The merman nodded, said something else, and swam away. She turned back to Luna and started massaging her calves.

"It's very impressive for a human to speak Mermish," Hermione said. "Most people can't hit the notes."

The woman smiled. "True, but I'm not entirely human. He's my dad."

"Oh," Hermione said, startled. She'd never heard of a human marrying a Merman.

"I know what you're thinking," the woman continued. "How on earth did they meet, right?"

"Well," Hermione said awkwardly, glancing at Luna and Ginny, who seemed equally curious.

"They met at Hogwarts. My mum fell out of the boat first year and my dad saved her. They stayed friends the entire time Mum was in school, and then they got married."

"Wow," Ginny said.

"My mother is a half-blood. She and her Muggle sister run this place. Dad normally just keeps the books, but because we had to shut down during the war, he's been really concerned about customer satisfaction."

"It isn't anything to do with the service," Ginny reiterated.

"No," Luna said. "It's just during the war…" She shook her head.

"You don't have to explain," the masseuse said. "We get that a lot since the war. The sad thing is, the people who most need a full body massage are often too traumatized to get one. That's why we added more chairs for foot massages."

"Smart," Hermione said. "And very relaxing. This is great."

"Good," the masseuse said. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Nails next."

xXx

When everyone was sufficiently relaxed and had gotten dressed. They went back out to the reception area to pay. Hermione pulled a plastic card from her bag and handed it to the receptionist. "This should cover all of us."

"What?" Ginny said. "You can't pay for all of us."

"Absolutely not," Fleur agreed.

"I'm not. My mum was so excited that I was having a girls' day out she insisted on paying for the spa, so she gave me a gift card."

"How kind," Fleur said.

"I don't understand," Ginny said.

Hermione blushed. "I think she was just excited that I had girlfriends."

Ginny chuckled. "Ron and Harry aren't big on mani-pedis?"

"Surprisingly, no," Hermione said.

Fleur held up her hands admiring the shimmering lilac color on her nails. "Men are silly. I feel wonderful."

"Me too," Luna said.

"Let's go to Hogsmeade and get hot chocolate," Ginny suggested. "My treat. I'm suddenly flush with gold."

Everyone agreed.

xXx

That evening, when Hermione arrived home, Ron was sitting in the parlor reading with Crookshanks in his lap.

Hermione smiled as she stepped out of the fireplace. "Look at my two ginger boys."

Ron looked up at her. "Did you have a good time? You've been gone ages."

"I did. It was a really fun day. We went shopping and then to the spa, but when everyone found out that Mum paid, the day sort of expanded."

"Expanded how?"

"Well, Ginny suggested we go to Hogsmeade for hot chocolate at Honeydukes on her, after that, it was getting later in the day and Luna suggested we have a late lunch, so we went down to the Three Broomsticks, and then she and Fleur split the check."

Ron smiled. "That sounds like a great day."

"It really was. What did you do?"

"Not much. Harry came over, and we listened to the Cannons match. I puttered about in the garden a bit after he left, did some maintenance on my broom, and then Purdy made me lunch. I've been reading ever since."

"That sounds like a pretty good day too. What are you reading?"

"Biography of Joscelind Wadcock."

"And she is?"

"Greatest chaser in a century. Played for Puddlemere United."

Hermione smiled. "If you say so." She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek before going into the kitchen to look at the post. She came back into the parlor carrying a large tube. "What's this?"

"Dunno. Auntie Muriel's big screech owl brought that for you."

"I can't think what it would be." She broke the seal on the tube and slid out a large piece of rolled parchment. "Huh?"

Ron got up from the sofa and followed her into the study where she unrolled the parchment on the table. "Good heavens."

He leaned over for a better look. "Is that—?"

"My family tree."

"I thought you did that months ago with her."

"No." Hermione slowly shook her head, scanning the tree. "We got some names, but nothing like this…this is…" She tapped her wand on one of the names and a full bio popped out. "Oh, Ron."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm overwhelmed. This is so much work. When I did this with her, we just cast some spells in a salt circle with a bit of my blood, but this, she put so much time and effort into this."

"Auntie Muriel does love genealogy. And let's face it, the old bat loves you too. Way more than she's ever loved me. I'm not sure she even likes me."

Hermione nodded without listening. She tapped on the name of her paternal grandmother. A photo of a striking dark-skinned woman appeared with a long biography beneath. She gasped as she read the entry. "My father's mother was a witch from a powerful Pureblood family in the West Indies."

He leaned over her shoulder and looked at the picture. "I guess now we know where you get this fabulous hair and why you tan so well." He nudged her playfully.

"Uh huh," she said, not in the mood to play. "She fell in love with a Muggle. They wanted to get married, but her family was against it."

"Well, that's ruddy awful."

"Yes, but then she got pregnant, and her family disowned her."

"Pureblood nonsense sounds like."

"She went to England to get away from them and raise the baby, but…" She put her hand over her mouth.

"What?"

"Shortly after my dad was born there was a terrible outbreak of Dragon Pox in London."

"Oh." Ron put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"His mum died, but he didn't get it, so they knew he was likely a Squib, because Muggles are immune. He was put in a Muggle orphanage." She shook her head. "This is awful. I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean? What is there to do? This all happened ages ago."

"It's hardly ancient history. My dad isn't even sixty yet, but more importantly, he doesn't know any of this."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. I mean he and mum didn't exactly seem thrilled with the news that they were Squibs."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure you should go by that reaction. A lot was going on when you told them. You'd just restored their memories, you were graduating, we were engaged. I'm not sure they could really focus on the Squib thing. Maybe you should talk to them at dinner tomorrow night."

"You might be right." She looked down at the family tree and touched the name of her paternal grandfather. The picture that came up was of a white man who looked a lot like her dad. There was no bio for him.

"What about your mum's parents?" Ron asked.

"We got a lot further with them, when Muriel and I were working on this together, because Mum came from a tit-for-tat family."

"A what?"

"You don't know? I thought it was pureblood thing."

Ron shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"It's a family that has a Muggle side and a magical side. They exchange children who are born on the wrong side."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Muriel knew all about it. I'm surprised you've never heard of it. Although, the Weasleys and Prewetts are both Sacred Twenty-Eight families, so I guess there's not a Muggle side to exchange with."

"Hang on. Are you telling me if we have a Squib, you're planning on giving it to your Mum's family to raise?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe he would even suggest such a thing. "Absolutely not! If we're lucky enough to even have a baby, I'm not handing it off to someone else to raise, Squib or not! How could you even suggest such a thing?"

Ron held up his hands. "I didn't. You did."

"Not as something for us to do!"

"Well, good. I thought you'd lost your mind there for second." He paused and looked at her. "But, if we do have a Squib, what will we do? Life in the magical world is rubbish for Squibs."

Hermione blew out a calming breath. She'd actually been thinking about that ever since the subject of having children had come up. "Simple, we'll split the house like the Leaky Cauldron. The front will be the Muggle side and the Magical side will be in the back. We'll have the Muggle part reconnected to the electrical grid, and we'll make it visible to Muggles again. Then, because I'm a citizen and you're not, I'll engage in the Muggle world as if I'm a single mother. It'll take some magical manipulation, but I'll say I had the baby out of the country, somewhere remote without infrastructure. I'll apply for citizenship for him or her and sign up for the National Health. When he or she is old enough, they'll go to the same school I started in, until things went awry, and I had to be tutored."

None of that sounded simple to him, but it sounded better than Filch's life. "So, his life won't be rubbish then?"

"No, of course not. We'll love any child we have, and if we have to make accommodation, we will. I was a child of two worlds. It can work. Don't worry about it. We've done much harder things than adjusting our lifestyle a bit."

Ron nodded, but he looked concerned. "I want us to be happy."

"We will be." She patted his chest. "There are all kinds of ways to be happy. Don't worry."

He put his arms around her and held her tight. "We can do anything."

"Yes, we can."

He stepped back from her and smiled. "Want to see something cool?"

"What?"

"Come on." He took her hand and headed for the back door. "I noticed them out of the corner of my eye when I was working in the garden earlier."

"What?"

"You'll see." Ron led her into the garden and back to the shed. "The best place to see them is in here." He opened the shed door and ushered her inside.

He pointed to the window above the workbench.

She looked but could only see the hawthorn tree that had stood next to the shed her entire life. "I don't—"

"Look closely."

She leaned forward and saw a twig move then realized, it wasn't a twig, but a Bowtruckle. Once she saw the first one, she realized there were others. She grinned at Ron. "Bowtruckles."

"Right. Isn't that great? We've got wand wood on the property. How lucky is that?"

"Very lucky. Besides, Bowtruckles are so cute."

"As long as you don't mess with their tree," Ron cautioned. "We'll have to be mindful of that when we're in the garden."

She put her arm around his waist. "I love it. I can't believe you spotted them."

"Just luck. Caught sight of one out of the corner of my eye, and once you've seen one, it's easier to spot the others."

She nodded. For the first time, the garden really felt like theirs.


	4. Family Tree

The next night, she and Ron Apparated to the roof of her parents' building and used Alohamora to open the stairway access door, so they could walk down to the tenth floor, where her parents had their flat. They reached her parents' door and Hermione looked at Ron. "I don't know what to do."

"Knock."

She frowned at him. "You know what I mean."

He shrugged. "Just ask them if they want to know."

"But if I ask, they'll say yes, even if they don't really want to know. I feel like I've turned their lives upside down so much already. Maybe I should just leave well enough alone."

"Seriously? You're going to keep this from them?"

She sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"Right, so knock." He gave her a reassuring smile

She took in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Cleo and Calli, her parents' Yorkshire terriers, went mad barking at the prospect of company. A moment later, her father opened the door holding one of the dogs. Her mother stood behind him holding the other. "Come in, come in." He shook Ron's hand and then handed his dog to her mother and hugged Hermione. Her parents exchanged the dogs, and then her mother hugged her.

"I hope you two are hungry," her mother said. "Your father has outdone himself in the kitchen."

"Really?" Hermione said. Generally, her parents either made something simple like steaks or chops with a salad, or they just went out to dinner.

"Yes," her father said. "I've decided to try my hand at cooking now that I'm semi-retired."

Her mother tutted. "He's not even remotely retired. He goes into the practice three times a week. He's had two journal articles published this month, and he's working on three more."

Hermione smiled at her father. "That doesn't sound very retired."

"I can't help how it sounds."

Hermione chuckled. Her mother put the dogs in their bedroom, while Ron and Hermione followed her father into the dining room. "Have a seat."

A moment later, her mother came in with a bottle of red wine. "Wine for everyone then?"

"Yes, please," Hermione said.

Ron nodded.

Her mother poured everyone a glass. "I have to say, I'm really enjoying this new hobby of your fathers, but I've had to add extra time at the gym, as well as another yoga class, just to keep my figure. My goodness he's made some rich meals."

"Fantastic," Ron said.

"I suppose you two don't have to worry about that at all."

"Not really," Hermione said. "Magic burns a tremendous number of calories, and we both do a lot of it."

Her mother took her seat at the table. "Oh, I remember. It used to cost a fortune to feed you when you came home for the summer."

Her father came in with a platter of roasted lamb surrounded by herbed new potatoes. "Luckily, we could afford it." He set down the platter and returned to the kitchen.

"That looks delicious," Ron said, eyeing the lamb.

"It should be," Hermione's mother said. "Everything he's made so far has been great."

Her father returned with a bowl of ginger carrots and a bowl of green beans tossed with bacon and garlic. "Enjoy!"

They all tucked into dinner.

"So, how has your week been, dear," her mother asked once everyone had gotten their servings.

"Good. Everyone really appreciated the spa day. Thank you so much."

"Excellent," her mother said. "I was happy to do it."

"And how about you, Ron?" Hermione's father said. "How was your week?"

"Busy. I've been working with my brother making products for his shop in the evenings and helping to train a new class of Aurors during the day. I'll be happy when they graduate, so I can go full time at the shop. Doing both is pretty tiring."

"I'm sure," Hermione's father said. "How about your job, Hermione? Still working with the elves?"

"Yes. But honestly, Purdy does most of that. I've been working a lot with Magical Law Enforcement lately in their legal division."

Her parents glanced nervously at each other.

"It's mostly research," Hermione said. "I'm a sort of attaché to the Wizengamot via the Auror's office. Actually, I'm more of a liaison, I suppose. It's not like I'm an Auror. I'm not in the field."

"And you have time to do all that and work with the elves too?" Her mother asked.

"Yes. I'm busy, but it's not too crazy."

"Right," Ron said. "Couldn't be, because she still finds time to work on her translation of Beedle the Bard."

Her parents exchanged confused looks.

"It's just a child's storybook," she said.

"Written in ancient runes," Ron added. "Which she's fluent in."

"So's your mum," Hermione said.

"True, but she's never bothered translating any books."

"Well, I imagine, with seven of you, she was too busy," Hermione said.

Ron chuckled. "Quite right."

A silence settled over the table for a moment as everyone resumed eating. Hermione nervously bunched her napkin in her left hand. "Speaking of family," she said awkwardly and then instantly regretted not coming up with a better segue. She continued nonetheless. "Ron's Great Aunt Muriel sent me our family tree this week."

Her parents glanced at each other before looking back at her. "Oh?" her mother said.

"I didn't ask her to make it," Hermione hastened to add. "But as I mentioned before, I went to her with some questions about my heritage, before we figured out how to reverse the spell I'd done on your memories. I really missed you. I suppose I was just grasping at straws, looking for family. I'd heard there was a potioneer named Granger. He turned out to be unrelated, but we were mostly just looking for names and Muriel explained to me how magical families worked when they—"

"Produced a dud?" her father said frowning.

"What? No, not a dud, other than being non-magical, there is nothing wrong with a Squib."

"Except the name implies that there is something wrong. Look up the definition of squib in the dictionary, and you'll see it means weak, especially when referring to a child."

Hermione looked at Ron for support but his eyes were wide and his face was blanched. "Uh," she said. "Weak only in the sense of not being powerful in the magical sense." Even as she said it, she knew it didn't help.

Her father's scowl deepened. "Which is the most important thing for you lot, isn't it?"

"Wen, that's not fair," her mother said.

"But it's right, isn't it?"

"No," Hermione said.

But at the same time Ron said, "Yes."

Hermione looked at him, her mouth gaping open. "Ron!"

He sighed and shook his head. He looked at her parents. "She doesn't know, not really, because she's always been powerful, and she didn't grow up in a magical household with siblings, comparing herself to them, and wondering if she'd ever measure up. She was always the best in our class. Harry was the only one as powerful as her, and he was powerful in a different way. Besides, she really believes in treating everyone equally. But the reality is, power matters a lot in our world. It's not the whole of it, but it does matter. So, when a non-magical child is born into a magical family, it's a big deal."

Hermione was shocked when her father said, "Thank you. I just wanted the truth of it."

"I wasn't trying to deceive you," Hermione said.

Her father nodded. "I know, but what Ron said makes a lot of sense."

Hermione bit her bottom lip, unsure as to whether she should bring up the family tree again.

"You said there was a tree," her mother said.

"Yes, but if you're not ready to see it, or don't want to, you don't have to, but I didn't want to keep it from you, in case you're curious."

Her parents glanced at each other again.

"Actually," her mother continued. "We talked about this quite a bit after you told us we were probably Squibs."

"Oh?" Hermione said.

"And I think we'd both like to see it."

Her father nodded his agreement and stood. "I suppose I should clear the plates first."

"I can do that." Ron drew his wand.

"Oh, all right." Her father sat back down.

While Ron took care of the dishes, Hermione pulled the rolled parchment from her beaded bag and stretched it out on the table casting a spell to keep it flat. She took them through each branch, lightly touching each name on the tree with her wand to reveal the biographies and let her parents read them. Muriel had only gone back three generations, and none of the Muggles on the tree had biographies. When they had gone through everyone, Hermione explained how deadly Dragon Pox could be and how tit-for-tat families worked, and then she answered their questions as best she could. Ron was done with the dishes quickly, so he was able to answer most of the questions that Hermione couldn't. When they finally couldn't think of anything else to ask, her parents both sat back in their chairs looking stunned and tired.

Her father seemed a bit shell shocked. "When you're an adopted kid you have these mad fantasies about what your biological parents were like. Crazy stuff. Your dad was MI5. Your mum was a double agent. Rubbish like that, but…" his voice broke.

"Wen?" her mother said resting a comforting hand on her husband's forearm.

"My mother loved me." A tear slipped down his cheek. He brushed it away and got to his feet. He shook his head, his face reddening. "I'm all right. I just need a minute." He leaned over and kissed the top of Hermione's head and left the room.

Her mother nervously fiddled with the edge of the table cloth. "I don't know what to think about that tit-for-tat nonsense, but this has been a very interesting evening. I should probably check on your dad." She stood.

Ron and Hermione got up from the table too. "We should go home anyway, give you two some time to digest all this. I'll come by tomorrow evening and see how you're doing if that's alright?"

"Of course, it is, darling. You're always welcome here. You don't have to ask."

"Thanks Mum. We can see ourselves out."

Her mother hugged her and then went to check on her father.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

"Let's go home."

xXx

"Are you all right?" Ron asked as they were getting ready for bed. Hermione hadn't said much since they got home, which surprised him. He'd expected her to want to talk about her parents' reaction.

She stopped unbuttoning her shirt and looked at him. "I don't know. I guess, I'm still trying to sort out what happened tonight. I mean, I knew it would likely be emotional for them." She shook her head. "It's just difficult."

Ron went over to her side of the bed and sat down. He reached for her hand and held it. "What is?"

"I'm not sure exactly. The whole two worlds thing, I guess. I wish it wasn't so difficult and complicated." She sighed and sat next to him. "It seems to me like we should do a better job, as a culture, of making the transition for Muggleborns and Squibs."

"Okay," Ron said slowly, anticipating an enormous undertaking coming his way.

"I mean, why doesn't Hogwarts offer classes to Muggleborns on basic magic? The kind of stuff that purebloods and half-bloods learn at home, the kind of stuff your mum taught me when I stayed at the Burrow. And why doesn't the Ministry offer support to magical families who have Muggle children? Why does everyone have to figure this out on their own? It's ridiculous and needlessly cruel."

Ron nodded. "Well, I reckon you should talk to McGonagall and Shacklebolt?"

"You're right." A look of fierce determination crossed her face. "I think I will."

Ron leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Of course you will."

They finished undressing and got into bed, but Hermione didn't roll toward him for a cuddle or more before they went to sleep. Instead, she lay on her back staring at the ceiling, which he knew meant she was thinking. Hermione was a fierce thinker. Sometimes, he felt like he could actually hear her brain working. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "G'night, luv."

She distractedly turned her head toward him and brushed his lips with hers. "Goodnight."

He smiled and rolled over. He knew it would be hours before she did the same.

xXx

The next evening, Ron went to help George make products at the shop after work and Hermione went back to her parents' flat. She smiled to think of their luxury condominium as a flat, but that was how they referred to it. She knocked on their door and waited in the hallway while the dogs barked. Her mother opened the door, holding one dog and nudging the other back with her foot, while Hermione slipped in. "Hello, Mum."

Her mother kissed her cheek. "It's so good to see you, dear. Come in." She set down the dog she'd been holding and both dogs sniffed at Hermione's shoes as she followed her mother into their large parlor. Unlike the flat they'd had in Sydney, the London flat was homier. There were silver framed family photos on the mantel above the gas fireplace and even the artwork seemed warmer and more welcoming. Her mother didn't stop in the parlor and continued into the kitchen, both dogs following at her heels. "I was just making a pot of tea. Would you like some?"

"Please."

"Assam or Earl Grey?"

"Assam sounds good." Hermione liked both equally, but she knew her mother's preference.

"Good choice." Her mother put tea in the pot. "Where's Ron tonight?"

"He's at the shop with George. Where's Dad?"

"He's at the club playing Squash."

"Good. I was afraid he would be upset after last night."

Her mother poured hot water from the kettle into the teapot and let it steep. "No. In many ways, he's quite pleased. After all, to know he wasn't just abandoned, that his mother wanted to be with him, well, he found that quite comforting. Actually, he wanted to know if he could get a copy of that photo from the tree."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"Good." Her mother continued fussing with the tea things.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are you doing after last night?"

Her mother sighed and got a jug of milk out of the fridge. "It was different for me, wasn't it? I was traded like so much livestock."

Hermione felt awful. "I know it seems like that, but really, they probably thought they were doing what was best for you."

Her mother frowned at her. "How on earth could that be best for me?"

"Life in the magical world for Squibs is very difficult."

"Just because something is challenging doesn't mean you dump off the problem on someone else. Besides, the tree said my mother was normal, so why couldn't she handle it?"

Hermione bristled at the term 'normal' but let it go. "I don't know, but I agree that children shouldn't be traded like that."

"Ron and I have already discussed what we'll do if one of our children isn't magical."

"What? I thought you two were waiting on children."

"Well…um." She hadn't meant to shift the conversation away from her mother.

"Mi, seriously, you're not thinking of—"

"Actually—"

"You're practically still a child yourself."

Hermione frowned. "I'm really not, but I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

Her mother poured milk into her teacup. "How am I not to worry? You've only just gotten married. Give yourself some time to be a couple before you have children."

"In many ways, Ron and I have been a couple for a lot longer than we've been married, but that's not why you shouldn't worry. Honestly, we've stopped casting the charm, but the likelihood that we'll have a child any time soon, or at all, is pretty slim."

Her mother looked at her. "Why?"

"As I told you before, magical families are generally quite small, and Ron and I both have taken a lot of magical damage over the years. According to the healers, it's not especially likely that we'll have children."

Her mother went pale and put a hand over her mouth.

"Ron, of course, points to the Weasley family's high level of procreation and assures me that magical damage or not, he's quite virile." She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

Her mother started putting the tea things on a tray. She didn't say anything but was clearly upset.

Hermione sighed. "Look, he and I have talked about this. We're going to give it five years. After that, if we still haven't conceived, we'll assess our options."

Her mother opened a packet of Hobnobs and put half of them on a plate. "Let's take this in the parlor. I need to sit down."

Hermione picked up the tray and they both went to sit in the parlor. 

Her mother got comfortable on the sofa with a cup of tea and a biscuit. Both dogs sat at her feet patiently hoping for a bit of cookie to fall. "If you have a normal child, what will you do?"

"We're actually well suited to raise a non-magical child. We live in a house that could easily be put back on to the Muggle grid. We could split it like the Leaky Cauldron, which would protect the electrical equipment from the magic. I'm a citizen, so I can have any child of mine registered as a British citizen and subject to all the rights therein. It'll be a challenge, of course, but we're up to it. One thing is certain, we will not be handing that child off to be raised by anyone else."

"Good. Because that would be dreadful. Obviously, you know your father and I will help in any way we can, regardless of whether the child is magical or not."

"I appreciate that, but not everyone has that kind of support, so in the meantime, I'm going to talk to some people about helping other mixed families. No one should feel like they have to give up a child. Frankly, Muggleborn children coming into the magical world should get more support too. It's time to change some of these practices for the better."

"I can't help but wonder how much of this your grandmother knows."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why is she so dreadful about you? So resentful. So spiteful."

Hermione shrugged, long since resigned to the fact that her grandmother didn't like her. "Maybe you should ask."

Her mother sighed. "We haven't spoken since I called to tell her you were getting married."

Hermione sipped her tea. Her mother's relationship with her own mother had been fraught with difficulties ever since Hermione could remember. "Maybe we should go see her and take the family tree."

Her mother looked at her crossly for a moment, but then she arched an eyebrow. "You know what? We should. If we leave now, we can be there before seven. That's not too late."

"Mum, I was just joking."

Her mother nodded, clearly still thinking about it. "Maybe, but we should do it."

"Now? Don't you want to call first? What if she's not home?"

"I'm sure she is, besides, if we call, she'll say she's busy. We should just go."

"I don't know, Mum." Hermione couldn't believe they were seriously discussing it.

"I thought you said Ron was working tonight."

"He is—"

"Good, then let's go. We should get going, it's a long drive."

"Wait, if you really want to do this, we can Apparate, and then it won't take but a minute."

"I thought you couldn't do that with us."

"I didn't want to Apparate with both of you to Ron's parents' house, because I was nervous about them meeting you, and I was worried that Apparating all three of us would make one or both of you sick. I'm fine to take just you. I probably would've been fine to take both of you, but like I said, I was nervous. Besides, we're only going to Essex."

"Well, all right. Are you sure you remember how to get there?"

Hermione smiled, wondering how her mother thought Apparition worked. "Yes. Are you sure though? What are we meant to say to her?"

"She's your grandmother. Let's start with hello and see what develops."

"Mum, it's been years since I've seen her. Years. Do you really want to just see what develops?"

Her mother paused and thought for a moment. "Yes. Come on, let's go. How do we do this?"

Hermione sighed. She held out her arm and her mother took it. "Take a deep breath and hold it."

Her mother complied and a moment later they were standing in front of a two-story white house with a bright red door on Bradleigh Avenue in the town of Grays. It hadn't changed much since Hermione had last seen it, when she was thirteen, and had come home for Christmas hols. Back then, the door had been a deep blue. Her mother coughed next to her. "Are you okay?"

Her mother nodded. "What a curious experience, a bit like being squeezed to death, isn't it?"

"A bit," Hermione nodded.

"It wasn't like that with Purdy?"

"Elves have a different kind of magic. Some things are just effortless for them."

"Ah." Her mother stared at the house for a moment, blew out a calming breath, and marched forward toward the door. "Come along then." She pressed the doorbell and listened as it chimed inside. A dog barked, but it wasn't the high yips of her parents' little dogs. Her grandmother opened the door. She was wearing a light pink velour track suit and beside her stood an old cocker spaniel. Hermione remembered the dog's name was Goldy and her grandfather had given it to her grandmother the Christmas after she turned eleven.

"Good heavens!" her grandmother exclaimed. "What on earth are you two doing here? Has someone died?"

Her mother frowned. "No, Mum. No one died. We just thought we'd come see you."

"Oh." Her grandmother stepped back from the door. "Come in then?"

Hermione could feel her grandmother's eyes on her as she walked through the familiar foyer with the family photos of her mother as a child on various family outings. The dog returned to its bed in front of the fireplace and curled up and went back to sleep, unconcerned with the visitors.

Her grandmother led them into the parlor. "Have a seat. I'll put the kettle on." She disappeared into the kitchen.

Hermione glanced at her mother for reassurance, but her mother looked confused, like she was reconsidering the visit.

A moment later, her grandmother reappeared and took a seat in one of the wing chairs. Hermione and her mother sat on the sofa. Her grandmother looked from one of them to the other. "So, what brings you out?"

Hermione could feel her mother bristle, so she started. "I was recently working on some genealogy with a friend, and it got me thinking about family. I hadn't seen you in so long that Mum suggested we come out."

"Well, it's lovely that you've decided to remember you have a family. What's it been? Eight years? You didn't even come to your grandfather's funeral."

"Seven," her mother said. "But who's counting?"

Hermione blew out a calming breath and said. "I'm so sorry I missed that, but I was in the hospital at the time. I sent you a letter when I recovered."

"You didn't send that letter until months later," her grandmother scolded.

"Gran, I promise you, I sent it as soon as I found out."

Her grandmother made a huffing noise.

"She was in a coma," her mother said.

"Pish," her grandmother said. "Her lot doesn't fall into comas."

"That's true," Hermione said. Both women looked at her. "It wasn't exactly a coma. I was actually petrified. I'd seen the image of a basilisk in a mirror and that's the result. They couldn't wake me because the potion to do so requires a rare ingredient that the school didn't have on hand, so they had to grow some. It took quite a long time."

"Oh," her grandmother said in a small voice. She stood abruptly. "I'll make the tea." She disappeared back into the kitchen.

Hermione's mother frowned at her and whispered. "Did you need to go into all that? You know she doesn't like magic talk."

Hermione sighed and whispered back. "I think I did. The truth is the only thing that makes sense. It's weird though, don't you think, that she said that about my lot not falling into comas? How does she—"

Her grandmother returned then with a tray and set it on the coffee table. "We'll need to let it steep."

Hermione and her mother glanced at each other.

Her grandmother seemed to be fuming. "Why am I just finding this out now? Why didn't you come and tell me this before?"

Hermione looked at her mother. "I was under the impression that you didn't want to see me."

"I wasn't asking you," her grandmother said, eyeing Hermione's mother.

"You never want to talk about the magic stuff. I said she was in a coma, because that was the closest thing I could think of in our world."

"She doesn't live in our world," her grandmother said. She turned to Hermione. "You can pop anywhere you like. You could have settled this, ages ago. Why didn't you?"

"I—"

"Mum, she was thirteen."

"What difference does that make?"

"Well, for one thing, I couldn't Apparate when I was thirteen," Hermione said.

"Why not?"

"They don't teach you until seventeen and then you have to pass a test to be licensed."

"Fine," her grandmother said. "Then where have you been for the last three years?"

Her mother's mouth dropped open in anger, but Hermione beat her to it. "There was a war on in my world, and I was part of that. Then when it was over, I had to finish my education and get a job. Then I got married. I invited you, but you declined to come. Thanks for the check though."

"A war?" Her grandmother seemed confused. "I didn't hear about any war."

"It didn't spill over into your world very often. And when it did, it was covered up as disasters, accidents, or crimes."

Her grandmother blinked. "And in your world?"

"A lot of people died."

"Well…" Her grandmother was visibly shaken. "Is there a list?"

"A list of what?" Hermione's mother asked.

"Names," her grandmother explained. "Of the dead."

"I suppose the Ministry has a list." Hermione wasn't positive, but it seemed likely.

"Can I see it?" her grandmother asked.

"Well, I don't have it with me. I—"

"Can you get it?" her grandmother asked.

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"Um, all right. I'll see what I can do. I'll be right back." She drew her wand and Disapparated.

xXx

Hermione landed in her own parlor a moment later. She hurried into her study to get parchment. "Purdy," she called. The little elf appeared. Hermione dashed off a quick note. "Could you please take this to the archivist on duty at the Ministry and wait for them to give you a list and bring it to me."

"Yes, Miss."

"Wait. Could you bring it to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley instead. I need to see Ron."

"Yes, Miss."

"Thank you. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Purdy disappeared and Hermione Disapparated right after her, landing in the alley next to George's shop. She hurried inside.

"Good evening and welcome to the greatest joke shop in the world," one of George's new employees said. She recognized him as a Hufflepuff from their year who'd stopped after his O.W.L.s. "Hi, Martin. Is Ron in?"

"Oh, hi, Hermione. Ron's in the back with George. Go on through."

"Thanks." She hurried down the aisles of magical products to the back room.

xXx

Ron was surprised to see Hermione come in to the work area in the back of the shop. He and George were making a batch of Ton Tongue Toffee when she walked in. "Hullo. What're you doing here?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. You're working. I should—"

He could see she was upset. He wiped his hands on a towel and walked over to her. "It's all right. I can take a break. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I mean, not really, I just went to see Mum, and she's very upset about this whole tit-for-tat thing. I suggested she ask Gran about it, but then she wanted to go right away, so we went and now…" She had the ends of her jumper sleeves clenched in her hands.

"I thought your Gran didn't speak to you."

"She doesn't, didn't, she is now. It's…" She shook her head again and closed her eyes. He could see she was trying not to cry.

"Hermione?" He took her gently by the shoulders.

"Gran asked to see a list of the dead."

"What dead?"

"From the war. She wanted to know where I'd been, and I said there'd been a war. She got very upset and wanted to know if there was a list of the dead." She looked up at him. "She would only want to see that if she thought she might know people on it. I think Gran must be a Squib too."

Ron crouched a bit until they were eye to eye. "What can I do? Do you want me to go back with you?"

She shook her head. "No. That would probably just muddle things. I sent Purdy to fetch the list. I can go back on my own. I just…I need…could you just…?"

"Yeah." He stood and wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him, tucking her head under his chin. He knew she was extremely upset because she didn't hug him back. She clutched the front of his shirt instead and pressed her face to his chest. "It's okay, you're all right."

They stood there for a long moment before he felt her pull away. She smoothed the front of his shirt where she'd wrinkled it in her grip. "Thanks." Her cheeks were flushed. "I just didn't expect to be in this situation tonight. Or at all."

"Sure. Who would?" He tucked an errant curl behind her ear.

Purdy appeared holding a long piece of parchment. "The list, Miss."

Hermione took it. "Thank you, Purdy. I'll see you back at home."

"Yes, Miss." The elf disappeared.

"Listen," Ron said. "You're upset. How far is your Gran's house?"

"It's just in Essex. I'm fine to go back. I just needed a moment."

"Why don't you call Purdy to bring you and your mum back tonight. Just to be safe."

Hermione nodded. "I will. Don't worry. I'll be fine, but I'm not sure what time I'll be back."

Ron leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. "All right then. I'll see you later."

She looked up at him with such raw love and affection that it made his heart soar. "Thank you."

He winked at her. "Anytime."

She Disapparated.

When Ron turned around George was staring at him. "Needy little thing, isn't she?"

"Oh, please. She could take your head off without her wand."

George chuckled. "It's unseemly to be so besotted with your own wife. Pull yourself together, man."

Ron snorted. "Please, you follow Angelina around like a puppy."

"I do not! Besides, she's my girlfriend not my wife, so it's fine."

"When're you going to pluck up the courage to ask her to marry you anyway?"

George smoothed his shirt. "Don't be daft. I'm much too desirable to take myself off the market this early."

Ron snorted. "You better ask her soon or someone else is libel to take her off the market."

"Don't be ridiculous."

George's tone was breezy, but Ron knew he'd touched a nerve. He knew it, because George had said something similar to him once about Hermione, and it had woken him up but good.

George dumped a mound of toffee on to the work table. "Let's finish this."

"Right," Ron said, drawing his wand.

xXx

In Essex, Hermione landed in her grandmother's foyer. Goldy lifted her head from where she lay by the fireplace but decided Hermione wasn't a threat and went back to sleep. Hermione wished that the tree Muriel had prepared for her had been more complete, but it only showed her direct lineage. It didn't show any siblings her parents or grandparents might've had, and it didn't show the adopters, only the biological parents. That probably wouldn't have mattered on her father's side, but clearly her mother's family tree was extremely complicated and Hermione wondered if Muriel would be willing to help her sort it out. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before walking into the parlor. As she rounded the corner, she could hear her mother and grandmother quietly arguing in the kitchen. She approached cautiously.

"Don't be ridiculous," her mother said angrily. "We couldn't keep her with us. We had to let her go. She needs to be in that world. It's where she belongs."

"She belonged with her family. That's the most important thing. You let her go off and look what happened. She got caught up in a war. How was that best for her?"

"Oh, like there's never been a war in our world. What was I supposed to do? Encase her in bubble wrap and lock her in her room? She's a witch and apparently a very good one. Besides, even as a child, she had to be convinced to do things. There was no forcing her."

"I was forced! You were forced!"

"Into the world we belonged in," her mother said in a softer tone. "I didn't do that to her, but I did let her choose, and she chose to live in the magical world."

There was a pause and Hermione stepped into the kitchen. "It doesn't have to be a binary choice. I'm not sure why we've made it one as a culture, but that doesn't mean we have to continue." Her mother and grandmother looked at her. They were both red-faced and clearly upset. "I've got the list." She handed the long piece of parchment to her grandmother. There were almost two hundred names of people who died as a result of Voldemort's rise to power and that was just on the magical side. There were another fifty or so Muggles who lost their lives too.

Her grandmother scanned the list, which was ordered by date. When she reached the end. She closed her eyes and sagged against the kitchen counter.

"Mum?" Hermione's mother said.

"She's not on there," her grandmother said with obvious relief.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"My sister," her grandmother said.


	5. Fallout

"Sister? I thought you were an only child?" Hermione's mother said.

"Only in this world."

"You were a Squib?" Hermione asked.

Her grandmother frowned at her. "Yes. My parents held out hope that I was just latent well past the point it should have been obvious that I didn't have any magic. I was sent to live with the Muggle side of the family when I was nine."

"Nine?" Hermione said, horrified. She'd been under the impression that the children were exchanged as infants or toddlers.

"My sister was five years older than me. She'd already gone to Hogwarts. I think my mother couldn't bear the thought of an empty nest."

"Can we go sit back down?" Hermione's mother said. "I think we all need to sit down." She went back into the parlor. Hermione and her grandmother followed her and resumed their seats from before.

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. If her grandmother knew who her family was, why had she never told Hermione she had family in the magical world. If she'd been allowed a relationship with them when she was younger, she wouldn't have felt so behind when she'd gone to Hogwarts. "I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me I have family in the magical world? For that matter, why haven't they contacted me? It's not like people don't know who I am. My face was plastered on Wanted posters all over the place."

"Wanted posters?" Her grandmother said with some alarm.

"I was a criminal a couple of years ago," Hermione said dryly. "Not to worry. There's a painting of me in the main hall of the Ministry now. I mean, it's really the three of us, but I'm featured prominently, which is why I don't understand. If I have family, why they haven't reached out."

"You're a Granger not a Wright. I'm sure they don't know you're related to them. You were a criminal?" Her grandmother looked accusingly at her mother. "Did you know that?"

"Not until long after the fact," her mother said, frowning at Hermione.

"How does a criminal get a painting in the Ministry?"

Hermione shrugged. "These things happen, but I don't understand why the magical side of the family doesn't know I'm related to them. Isn't the whole point of this tit-for-tat thing to keep families together?"

"Hardly," her grandmother scoffed. "They kick you out of the only world you've ever known and send you to live with people you've never even met before. Then the strangers tell you how grateful you should be for all the opportunities you'll have. You never see your real family again."

"And yet you agreed to take me when someone presumably did the same thing," her mother said.

"Of course, I did. I'm not a monster. I wasn't going to let them dump you in some orphanage when you could be raised by blood. Your father and I couldn't have children. You were a gift, no matter what your origins."

"So, am I your sister's daughter then?"

"No. She never had children. She married a shopkeeper, but they don't have kids."

"How do you know that if you don't have contact?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't say I didn't have contact. I said I never saw them again. My sister writes occasionally, although it's been a few years, which why I wanted to see the list."

"What about your parents?" Hermione asked.

Her mother looked at her. "Seriously? Mum is seventy-five."

"Right," Hermione said. "Her parents might not even be a hundred yet."

"Oh, right, I forgot you lot live forever," her mother said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione frowned. "Not forever, but a hundred and fifty isn't unusual. So, Gran—"

"They're dead. Died in the last war." Her grandmother clenched her hands tightly in her lap and looked away from them.

"Oh," Hermione said, crestfallen. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"Wait," her mother said. "Who are my parents to you then?"

"Your father was a cousin of mine, Landen Wright. He married a Muggle woman."

"They're on the tree," Hermione added.

"What tree?" her grandmother asked.

"The one my husband's great aunt made for me, but it only shows my direct lineage. It doesn't show how all the arrangements turned out for the Wrights."

"Oh," her grandmother said.

"Which brings us to the obvious question," Hermione said. "Why wasn't I exchanged?"

"I never told my sister you were born. We used to write a lot more frequently, but I mostly stopped after you came along, so the family wouldn't know. I didn't want them pressuring Monica to give you up and believe me, magical children are so rare, they would have."

"I would never have given you up," her mother said, reaching for Hermione's hand.

Her grandmother shook her head. "You say that, but they can be very persuasive. You can do a lot with magic."

Hermione's mother looked stricken. Hermione squeezed her hand, knowing she was thinking about having her memories taken and being sent to Australia. A wave of guilt rolled over Hermione. "This has to stop. We need to do a better job for families in both worlds."

"I agree," her grandmother said. "But I don't know what we can do about it. It's been going on for centuries."

"All the more reason it should stop. I'm going to speak to some people and see if we can fix this mess."

Her grandmother looked at her. "What could you possibly do?"

Hermione was taken aback. No one had questioned her determination in a quite a while.

"Did you miss the part about there being a painting of her in their Ministry," her mother said. "She's a witch of some note, despite her youth."

Her grandmother looked at her. "And apparently a criminal."

"Only during the war," Hermione said. "When we prevailed, my record was expunged. And because of my activities during the war, I do have access to people who could help."

"Huh," her grandmother said, and then a slow smile spread across her face. "I would love for my sister to know that."

"I wish I knew who she was," Hermione said.

"Scrivenshaft. That's her husband. He owns the—"

"Quill shop! I go there all the time. I buy writing supplies there. Are you telling me I've been buying quills from my great aunt for years and never knew? She's a very nice witch, and she makes the best quills. Her husband makes the ink and parchment, but she does the pens. My favorites are Magpie quills, and she's the only one who makes them. She always lets me know when they're available."

"Well, I'm glad you like her," her grandmother said sourly.

"Is that bad?" Hermione said, confused.

"No," her grandmother grumbled. "No. I just wish I could see her so easily."

"So why don't you?" her mother asked.

"That's impossible. I haven't seen her in decades."

"I could take you to Hogsmeade," Hermione said.

"No. If I go with you and tell her who you are, she'll be furious."

"What? Why?" her mother asked.

Hermione sighed. "Because, by the family rules, I should have gone to her."

Her grandmother frowned, but nodded. "She and I haven't had significant contact since you got pregnant, Monica."

"Oh," Hermione's mother said. "I…you cut yourself off to protect me?"

"Of course, I did," her grandmother snapped. "On the off chance that you produced a magical child, I didn't want them coming after you. Wen had an air of Squib about him, and I thought you two just might have better odds than most." She looked at Hermione. "And I was right."

"You sacrificed so much to protect us," Hermione said. "Why haven't you spoken to me for the last seven years."

Her grandmother frowned. "Because you just…you were so excited that first Christmas home from Hogwarts. Just like my sister had been. All you talked about was the magical world and how great it was. And then when you didn't come to your grandfather's funeral, I thought, I'd sacrificed so much for you to stay with our family, and there you were, disappearing into their world."

"But Gran—" Hermione started.

"Don't say you didn't," her grandmother scolded. "Monica and I might not talk much, but we do talk. Your trips home got shorter and shorter. I knew it was inevitable that you would disappear into the magical world entirely one day. I tried to make Monica understand, but she was angry at the suggestion. She said it was just a phase. And then they disappeared. I knew that must have been down to you somehow. You didn't even tell me where you sent them or why. You never bothered to offer to send me too. Selfish. You're a selfish girl."

Hermione blinked back tears and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you were estranged. They were in so much danger being connected to me, and I couldn't convince them of that. Parents of Muggleborns were being murdered. I had to send them away. I didn't think it would have much of an impact on you. You two barely spoke."

"Not much of an impact?" her grandmother said angrily. "She's my only daughter and you just took her away without so much as a note."

"I couldn't send you a note, Gran. That would have just drawn attention to you. Better that you be the estranged Muggle grandmother with no contact. Of course, if I'd known you understood so much of the magical world, I would have told you what was happening. I would have enlisted you to help me convince Mum and Dad to go, but I thought…I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Stop," Monica said. "Just stop. This isn't Hermione's fault. She was a seventeen-year-old girl having to make adult decisions to keep her loved ones safe. She didn't have all the information and that's your fault, and you and I didn't sort out our issues, and that's our fault. She did the best she could at the time. I won't have you berating her for it not being a perfect solution."

"I should have come home more, stayed longer. Gran's absolutely right about that." Hermione said, wiping away tears. "When you were gone, before I figured out how to bring you back, I regretted every day that I hadn't spent more time with you and Dad, when I had the chance."

"Please," her mother scoffed. "You were living your life and there's nothing wrong with that. You're supposed to go out into the world and be your own person. We knew you loved us and that you'd come back eventually. And you have. And you've brought us a lovely son-in-law to boot. So, don't you feel bad, don't you feel bad about any of it."

Her grandmother still seemed very upset. Hermione considered the situation and thought about her exchanges with Madam Scrivenshaft over the years. She looked at her grandmother who was staring disconsolately out the window. "I think it's possible your sister already knows who I am," she said tentatively. "Or at least suspects."

Her grandmother looked at her sharply. "What makes you say that?"

"Because, thinking about it, she gives me special treatment. I get discounts no one else gets. I'm sent a personal note when she has Magpie quills available. She always keeps a small amount of walnut ink in stock because she knows I like it. Ron always says she treats me special, because I like expensive quills, and I go through so much parchment, but what if it's more than that?"

Her grandmother shook her head. "How could she know? I've never mentioned you to her, not once."

"Before Mum got pregnant, did you ever send photos of her to your sister?"

"We used to exchange photos every Christmas, why?"

"Every time I meet someone who knows Mum, they comment on how much we look alike. Mum gets the same thing every time she's in my world. If your sister noticed the similarity, she could've cast any number of spells to see if we're related."

"If she knows, why hasn't she said anything?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. It's possible we have a communication problem in our family."

Her mother snorted back a laugh.

Her grandmother frowned. "But if I say something, and she didn't know, she'll be so angry."

"All right, but then you explain yourself, and you work it out."

Her grandmother huffed. "You make it sound so easy."

"It may not be easy, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. Isn't it worth trying to get the family back together? We could have proper holidays. We could have days out. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"As if," her grandmother scoffed. "Like you have any interest in spending time with us."

"Mum," her mother said defensively. "We see Hermione every week, sometimes more than that. She and Ron have dinner with us every Wednesday. Sometimes, she and I go have our nails done or go to a play or a concert."

Her grandmother didn't seem to believe that. "You come into the Muggle world that often?"

"Sometimes," Hermione said. "Sometimes, they come to me. When we have our nails done it's at a place that caters to both worlds. It's possible, Gran. It's not always easy, but it's possible."

Her grandmother shook her head. "I've never heard of such a thing."

Hermione and her mother exchanged glances. "Think about it, Mum," her mother said.

"Please," Hermione added. "I'd be happy to speak to your sister on your behalf or to bring you to her so you can speak for yourself. Just think about it."

Her grandmother nodded.

"I think we should go," her mother said. "It's been a long day and we all have a lot to think about."

Hermione nodded. "If you don't mind, I'm going to call Purdy to come and get us. I'm exhausted, and I told Ron I wouldn't push it. I've done an awful lot of magic today."

"Of course, darling, whatever works best for you," her mother said.

"Who is Purdy?" her grandmother asked.

"A house elf—"

"My sister's best friend used to have one of those," her grandmother said with delight. "I can't believe you own one. I thought only purebloods had elves."

"I don't own her. She's a free elf. She works with me and makes my life infinitely better, but if she were to decide she was sick of me tomorrow, she could go."

"Really?" her grandmother said. "A free elf. I've never heard of such a thing."

"Well," Hermione said firmly. "If I have my way, they'll be more and more common."

"Huh," her grandmother said.

"Purdy?" Hermione called.

The little elf appeared a moment later in a sparkling white tea towel. "Yes, Miss?"

"Purdy, do you mind taking Mum and I back to London?"

"Purdy doesn't mind, Miss."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "We can take Mum home first. Oh, I'm sorry. This is my grandmother, Honoria Wright-Acton."

"Hello," her grandmother said.

"Hello, Miss," Purdy said.

"Mum, I'll call you tomorrow," Hermione's mother said, kissing her mother's cheek. Hermione stood awkwardly, unsure as to how she should say goodbye.

"I'll think about what you said," her grandmother told her.

Hermione nodded. "Good." She looked at her mother. "We should go." They each held one of Purdy's hands as they disappeared from Essex.

xXx

Hermione got home late that night. Her father hadn't been home when they'd arrived with Purdy, so she'd stayed to keep her mother company, until her father returned. When she Apparated into her foyer in Heathgate, she could see Ron had fallen asleep on the sofa while listening to a Quidditch match that was still playing. Crookshanks was curled up next to him. The cat lifted his head when she came in and let out a meow in greeting. Ron woke at the noise and looked up.

"Hey," he said sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Half eleven," she said, leaning over the back of the sofa to stroke Crookshanks head.

Ron turned off the radio.

"You don't have to turn that off on my account."

"Nah, I don't really care about that match. It's not the Canons playing." He stood and stretched. The hem of his T-shirt rode up exposing a strip of skin above his trousers. Hermione smiled. "So how did things go with your Gran?"

"Weird."

"How so?"

She could feel tears threatening again. "Could we talk about it in the morning? I'm just exhausted right now."

"Sure." He stepped around the sofa so he could hug her. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. "What can I do?" he asked.

"Could you take me upstairs and make me forget my day?"

He smiled at her. "Of course. I'm always happy to roger you, you know that, you don't have to ask."

She chuckled. "You say the sweetest things."

He kissed her neck. "I really do."

She laughed in earnest at that.

"Come on," Ron said, taking her hand. "Let's go to bed."

She followed him upstairs.

xXx

Later, as Ron snored softly beside her, Hermione lay staring at the ceiling. She had hoped to fall into the same blissful, post-coital sleep Ron was enjoying, but alas, her mind wouldn't stop racing. She kept constructing points to make in conversations with McGonagall and Shacklebolt. Eventually, she gave up trying to sleep and went downstairs to compose letters requesting meetings.

xXx

The next morning when Ron woke, Hermione was sleeping soundly beside him. He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. Gathering his clothes, he went down the hall to shower and change in the other bathroom, so he wouldn't wake her. When he went into the kitchen to get breakfast, Purdy was up and making eggs and toast. "Good morning, Purdy."

"Good morning, Mr. Ron."

He opened the door for Crookshanks to come in. When the big Kneazle-cat cross came in, Ron said to him, "Hey, Hermione is asleep, so don't wake her when you go up." The cat looked at him with understanding yellow eyes and slipped upstairs.

xXx

Across town, Wen Granger was also getting ready for work. He was tired and cross. Monica had tossed and turned all night, so he hadn't gotten much sleep either, but he had a meeting with someone from the National Health, so he couldn't be late. He sighed as he knotted his tie. Generally, his wife did that for him. It was a little quirk of hers. Monica liked to fix his tie. She'd also insisted Hermione should learn to tie a half Windsor, a full Windsor, a four-in-hand, and a bow tie, so when Monica hadn't been available to tie his tie, Hermione did it. He looked at his sloppy knot in the mirror. It would have to do. Wen shook his head and looked back at his sleeping wife. She was a weird one, but he loved her. She'd been very upset coming back from her mother's house, too upset to really tell him what happened. He sighed again and went to pour himself a bowl of cereal.

xXx

When the meeting with Basil Sutton-Johnson from the National Health Service was over, Wen was struck with a wild idea. The meeting wasn't far from the Leaky Cauldron. He was walking out the door before he'd really thought through his plan. He needed to see Hermione and get her take on what had happened at her Grandmother's house yesterday. He didn't want another night of a despondent wife, who gave half answers to his questions until she broke down in tears. It took him less time to find the unassuming, faded purple door than it did the last time he'd looked for it. He boldly walked into the rundown pub. The same man with the pony tail was wiping down the bar with what looked like the same dingy rag. There was another man asleep in the corner. The barkeep looked up when Wen walked in.

"I need to see my daughter. She's through there." Wen pointed to the battered door that led to the magical side of the pub.

The bartender eyed him. "You're Granger's father?"

Wen nodded.

"Hang on." He stepped behind a curtain and Wen waited. A moment later, he returned. "Go through."

Wen opened the door and stepped into a completely different establishment. There wasn't an empty table in sight and a large tea pot and several pitchers of ale and juice floated through the air filling cups and glasses for the lively crowd.

"Oi," a man called to him from the bar.

Wen walked over to him. "It's the rush," the man explained. "And Hermione's not here."

A small elf appeared behind him. "You are the Granger's father, sir?"

"Uh, yes," Wen said. "You're a house elf?"

"I'm a free elf, sir," the elf said proudly.

"Oh," Wen said. "Hello. What's your name?"

"Poppin, sir. I can take you to the Granger."

"Come on, Poppin," the publican said. "We're slammed."

"It will only take a second," Poppin replied. "It's the Granger's father, Mr. Bert."

Bert sighed. "Fine, go on then, but please make it quick."

The elf held out his hand and Wen took it. A moment later, they were standing in an outdoor courtyard. Hermione was sitting at a table having lunch with a woman Wen didn't recognize. They were chatting amicably when Hermione looked up. "Daddy?" she said, standing with some alarm. "Poppin? What's happened?"

"It's alright," Wen said. "Poppin brought me from the Leaky Cauldron. I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch."

"No," Hermione said. "That's fine. Thank you, Poppin," she said to the elf.

"Yes, Miss," he said and disappeared.

"Um," Hermione said to her father. "This is Sylvia Goldman. She works in the office next to mine. Sylvia this is my father, Wendall Granger."

"Ah," her father said, reaching out to shake Sylvia's hand. "Do you also work with house elves?"

"Heavens no," Sylvia said, smiling. "I work with goblins. There are days I regret that choice though. It's lovely to meet you. I hate to run off, but I have a meeting I need to get to."

"I understand," Wen said.

"I'll see you later," Hermione said.

"Righto." Sylvia drew her wand and Disapparated with a soft pop.

Wen looked at Hermione. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Hermione smiled. "Have a seat. Can I get you some lunch?"

"That would be nice. I've been in meetings all morning."

"What would you like?"

"What are you having?"

"A lamb sandwich and some potato soup."

"That sounds perfect."

Hermione flicked her wand and the remains of Sylvia's lunch disappeared and were replaced by a clean place setting. She picked up the plate, told it her father's order, and set it back in front of him. A moment later, his lunch appeared.

He smiled broadly. "Wonderful." He picked up the sandwich and took a bite.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her father swallowed and took a sip of water. "When I got home last night your mother was very upset. I understood that she was upset about what happened at your grandmother's house, but she didn't really want to talk, so I'm short on details. She'd had quite a bit to drink by the time I got home, and she was listening to Tori Amos."

Hermione bit her lip. "That's not a good sign."

"No," her father said.

For the next hour, they ate their lunch and Hermione explained the previous night's events. When she was done, her father sat back in his chair and sighed. "Now I feel like I need a drink."

Hermione nodded. "I could get you an ale—"

He waved her off. "No, no, I'm fine. I just wish this whole thing weren't so complicated. I think your mum feels rather like rubbish her family was sifting through trying to find gold."

Hermione hated that her mother felt like that. "I know. But the other way to look at this is, that Gran loved her so much, that she stopped all that by cutting herself off from the only family she had."

Her father nodded. "That is a good way to look at it."

"The other thing to understand is that I've already sent letters out to set up meetings so we can start talking about this as a culture and stop doing these things. Families need support, not shame and misunderstanding."

Her father smiled at her exactly as he'd done when she was a child and achieved any small goal. "Of course, you have."

"I actually have a meeting with the Minister of Magic in about an hour, and I'm meeting with the headmistress of Hogwarts tomorrow evening after work."

Her father raised his eyebrows. "My goodness, you work fast."

"I happen to know both of those people fairly well, and I've got a bit of cachet since the end of the war, and my success in front of the Wizengamot. I might as well use it while I've got it."

"Indeed." Her father fiddled with his soupspoon.

"I'm hoping I can get something going to fix this mess, so I can show Mum and Gran that it won't always be like it is now."

Her father nodded. "An admirable goal."

"Maybe, but it won't really fix their situation."

He sighed. "No."

"I wish Gran would consent to at least let me talk to her sister, or better yet, let me take her to Hogsmeade, so she can speak for herself."

Her father nodded. "I'm sure that would be good for your Gran." He looked around at the people popping in and out of the courtyard.

"But Mum is your primary concern. Mine too. I'm just not sure what I can do to help there."

"I'm not sure you can do anything in that regard. I think she just needs time to sit with all this and put it into perspective."

"I guess." She hated that her mother was so upset and wished there was more she could do.

Her father looked at her and smiled. "Since I'm here, do you have time to show me that painting of you before you go to your meeting."

Hermione smiled. "Sure."


	6. Squibs and Muggleborns

Hermione's father was delighted with the painting of her, Ron, and Harry in the Ministry's great hall. "We've got to bring your mum to see this. It's fantastic."

Hermione could feel her face flush. "Dad, keep your voice down. I work here."

"I know. Amazing. This would definitely cheer up Monica."

"All right, we'll all come, but maybe on a weekend when it isn't so busy." She tugged him by the arm. "Come on, I've got a meeting, let's go back to the courtyard and I'll call Purdy."

xXx

With her father safely in Purdy's capable hands, Hermione went to Shacklebolt's office.

A harried looking witch sat outside. "He's only got fifteen minutes, luv, so make it quick."

Hermione nodded and the door to Shacklebolt's office opened. He greeted her warmly and told her to have a seat.

Conscious of his limited time, she thanked him for seeing her and then launched right into the plight of Squibs and Muggleborns and asked for Ministry assistance in helping families. When she'd finished pleading her case, she sat quietly on the edge of her seat and waited.

Shacklebolt steepled his fingers and sighed. "Everything you say is true." Hermione took heart. "But…" He shook his head. "I just don't have the resources to devote to that right now. We're still in recovery mode. The Ministry isn't back at full capacity yet. We lost over a hundred employees during the war and have found replacements for less than half of them. Not to mention, the goblins are still hounding me about restitution for the damage you lot caused to the bank."

Hermione blushed and bit her lip.

"And I spend a lot of time assuring the Prime Minister that I've got everything under control, and there will be no more magical murders of Muggles."

"I understand, sir."

He leaned forward. "Look, I appreciate the difficulties of families in these situations, but the truth of it is, Muggleborns and Squibs make up a small percentage of our population. My suggestion is to talk to Minerva and see if there can be something done through Hogwarts to help the Muggleborns. As for the Squibs, to be honest, we need more of them to stay in our world, or at least come back to it, than we ever have before. We can offer them good jobs now, jobs that didn't exist before. Unfortunately, most families don't like to admit they've produced a Squib, so it's challenging. We end up with Muggleborns and Half-bloods doing jobs that would be better done by someone without any magic."

Hermione had never heard anyone say that. "Like what, sir?"

"We've always tracked Muggle science. Magic and electricity don't mix, but magic and science do, or at least they did, until advanced Muggle technology became so much a part of what they do. It used to be fairly simple for the Ministry to track Muggle advances in science, because we have a staff of people, who read journals and then disseminate relevant information. I get a daily briefing. The Wizengamot Arcane Arts committee gets a weekly briefing, and the whole Wizengamot gets a monthly briefing. However, Muggles increasingly use computers to share most of their information and don't print journals anymore, especially regarding scientific advances and as you know, aside from a few wizards who can shield their magic from electricity, we can't use them, so we need Squibs to interface with the Muggle world in that regard."

Hermione nodded. Both of her parents had computers and cell phones. "Isn't that all the more reason for the Ministry to get involved then?"

"Yes, but I still don't have the resources. I strongly encourage you to reach out. You and your friends can draw a lot of attention. Talk to the press, do interviews, talk about the issue. Perhaps start a club or a support group for families with non-magical children. Brainstorm solutions, so families can stay together, while still educating their children properly. You're a bright witch. I'm sure you can think of something, and I promise, I will speak favorably of it, if and when I'm asked, but that's about all I can do at this juncture."

Hermione nodded, her mind already considering the possibilities.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting with the Wizengamot in a few minutes, and then I'm due at Downing Street."

"Of course," Hermione said. "Thank you for your time, Minister."

"I'm always happy to speak to you, Hermione. I like to keep track of our best and brightest, and you never disappoint."

She blushed again. "Thank you, sir." They shook hands and she went back to her office.

xXx

That night when she got home, Ron and Harry were in the parlor playing chess. Hermione could smell delicious aromas emanating from the kitchen. "What's Purdy making for dinner?"

"Beef stew and fresh bread," Ron answered.

"Perfect." She looked at Harry. "Ginny went back to Wales then?"

"Yeah. She left this morning. She'll be back in a few days though, and then she's got two weeks at home. I can't wait."

Hermione nodded and sat on the sofa across from them. "I know it's hard."

Harry sighed.

"He's staying here though," Ron said cheerily.

Hermione couldn't help thinking Ron was rather like a collie in that regard. He preferred the three of them together where he could keep an eye out. She cleared her throat. "So, Harry, I need a bit of your clout."

The two of them looked up from their game. "Why?" Harry asked. "You have your own clout."

"True," Hermione said. "But I'm not Harry Potter."

"She's got you there," Ron said, chuckling. "And so do I, check."

Harry looked down at the board. "Damn."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at Ron. "I wouldn't be so quick to laugh. I'm going to need you too."

Ron groaned. "What have you done?"

"I haven't done anything yet, but I'm going to."

"Okay," Harry said slowly.

"Right. So, what I need from you Harry is to support me when I start talking about Squibs and their important role in our society."

"Do they have an important role in our society?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes!" Hermione said, irritated. "Well, perhaps they didn't used to, but now we quite need Squibs, and families are still dumping them off either into the Muggle side of their own families or into Muggle orphanages."

"Come on," Ron said. "The only two Squibs I know are bloody Filch and that bloke what makes the phone calls for you at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Terry," Hermione said.

"Right, and Terry seems like a nice enough bloke, but I'm not sure we have need of loads of people to do his work, or Filch's."

"Well, first off," Hermione said. "I'm not sure if Filch is really a Squib or if he's just very low powered, but it doesn't matter. I talked to Shacklebolt today about the predicament of families dealing with non-magical children, and while he agreed it's a problem, he said the Ministry doesn't have the resources to deal with it right now—"

"So, you want to?" Ron was clearly exasperated. "Bloody hell, Hermione."

"Yes, I want to," she said indignantly. "And while there weren't good jobs for Squibs in the magical world before, there are now. We need them to interface with computers, so we can keep track of what's going on in the Muggle world, particularly in the sciences."

"Oh," Harry said. "I guess that makes sense."

"Does it?" Ron said.

"Yes," Harry and Hermione both said.

"Look," Harry said, "You know we burn out electrical equipment pretty quickly."

"Dad doesn't."

Hermione sighed. "Because he's among a small number of wizards who can shield their power from the circuits."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"Now that Muggles communicate so much with computers and cell phones and what not, it's gotten harder and harder for us to track what's going on with them. We need Squibs to do that for us, but there aren't enough."

"Oh," Ron said. "Then the Ministry ought to do something."

"Yes." Hermione rolled her eyes. "But they're still grossly understaffed."

"So, Shacklebolt is just dumping it off on us. That's bloody unfair," Ron groused.

"He's not dumping anything anywhere. I went to him, remember?"

Ron frowned. "Yeah. I wish you'd stop coming up with gigantic projects. Could we not take a break for ten minutes? I've got quite enough on my plate, as it is."

Hermione felt bad. Ron did have a lot going on with helping train new Aurors, as well as working as one, during the day and working with George creating products at night. "I know," she said in a gentler tone. "That's why I asked for Harry's help."

"And how am I meant to be helping again?" Harry said.

"You're always being interviewed about one thing or another. I'm going to start talking about this problem. Inevitably, people will ask your opinion. I'm just asking for your support. That's all."

"Oh." Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I can do that."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." She turned to Ron. "Actually—"

He frowned at her. "I was off the hook for all of ten seconds?"

"There's no hook. But if the subject comes up in the shop or at work, I need your support too. My goal is to have everyone talking about this, so that the demand for change comes from the bottom up."

"Will that work, you think?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea. Meanwhile, I'm talking to McGonagall tomorrow to talk about the other side of the problem."

"Dinner is ready," Purdy said from the kitchen door.

Ron stood. "Excellent."

xXx

After dinner, Hermione was tired so she went to read in bed.

Ron watched as she walked upstairs and shook his head. "That woman," he said with a sigh. "You want an ale?"

"Sure."

Ron flicked his wand and two Dragon Scales came flying out of the icebox. He caught them and handed one to Harry.

Harry scratched his head and yawned. "Why can't she just deal with her family problems like everyone else? With awkward avoidance and alcohol."

Ron sighed. "I don't know. I think a lot of this is guilt."

"Guilt?" Harry opened his ale. "About what?"

"Taking her parents' memories and sending them off to Australia."

"Oh. Yeah, but she fixed that and found the counter-curse for Obliviation in the process. Surely, that counts for something."

"Since her parents don't really understand the complex magic behind all that, I don't think it counts as much as you might think. Besides, she didn't tell her gran what she'd done, so her gran is very upset. Apparently, she went after Hermione pretty hard about that."

"I guess I'd feel guilty about that too."

Ron snorted. "Of course, you would. You feel guilty about everything."

Harry glowered at him.

Ron shrugged it off. "Not to mention, I stirred up this whole hornet's nest by telling her parents they were probably Squibs, and then she made it worse by showing them the family tree, which I'm fairly certain, I talked her into doing, so some of this is my fault."

Harry shook his head and chuckled. "Good job, mate."

"I swear I thought I was doing the right thing both times. I mean, I only told them they were Squibs because her dad was giving her such grief about living in the magical world."

"Yeah. I remember that dinner."

Ron sighed. "You know how she is. She's trying to make it right."

Harry shook his head. "So, now we have to make it right too."

Ron gave him a weak smile. "All for one…"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, smiling back.

xXx

When Ron went upstairs, Hermione was still reading in bed. "Hey. I thought you'd be asleep."

"I should be. I'm just having trouble settling down. My mind is racing. I've read this same page five times."

He crawled in next to her and kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." She set aside the book and snuggled against him. "Lucky we're married. It would be terrible to be this in love and married to other people."

He chuckled. "I don't know. You and Neville might be very happy."

She leaned away from him. "Neville? Are you serious? He's not even a ginger."

Ron shook his head at her. "Good grief, woman, is my hair the only reason you love me?"

"Don't be silly," she teased as she ran a finger down his chest. "There are a few other things I like about you. I'm sure you could keep Luna quite happy while I'm married to Neville."

"Luna!" he scoffed. "I couldn't marry Luna."

"Why not? Luna's lovely."

"Luna's mental and she's so pale. If we had children, they'd be transparent." Hermione's face fell and he knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"At least she'd be more likely to give you children."

"Hey," he said, touching her cheek. "We said we'd give it five years. It's only been a few weeks and neither one of us is really ready to be a parent right now anyway."

"I know, but—"

"And," he said, interrupting her, because he knew what she was going to say. "I'd rather be with you without children than with anyone else with them, so it doesn't matter if we have them or not. Besides, lots of magical couples never have children. McGonagall was married for ages and she never had kids. That's true of loads of magical couples. You know that, so stop thinking this is only about you. I've taken a lot of magical damage too. We'll just have to see how it goes."

She nodded. "I know. You're right."

"Of course, I'm right."

Hermione sighed.

"What?"

"Part of the problem with Mum and Gran has to do with magical children."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"Gran thinks her sister will be furious if she knows who I am."

"Why?"

"Because Madam Scrivenshaft is her sister, and according the rules of tit-for-tat families, I should have gone to her to be raised."

Ron's mouth dropped open.

"The thing is Gran exchanged family photos with her sister for years until Mum got pregnant with me and then she stopped. Mum and I look so much alike—"

"You think Madam Scrivenshaft already knows."

Hermione nodded. "She might. If she suspected, it would have been easy enough to cast a spell on one of the photos of Mum and one of the photos of me from the _Prophet_ and then she'd know for sure."

Ron rubbed his chin. "She has always given you special treatment. But why wouldn't she have said something?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, tomorrow I'm going to talk to McGonagall, and then I guess I'll call Mum and see how she's doing."

Ron smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry this is so hard."

She snuggled closer to him. "Me too."

xXx

Late the next afternoon, Hermione was sitting in McGonagall's office in a blue tartan armchair waiting for her to come downstairs. When the older witch finally took her seat in the chair opposite Hermione. "What can I do for you today, Miss Granger?" McGonagall smiled. "Or should I say Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione shook her head. "Please don't. I've actually kept my name. It's easier than changing it, since I already hold spells under Granger, and Ron doesn't care. Besides, Molly is Mrs. Weasley."

"Very sensible. I never bothered changing my name. I think only purebloods do that these days, or worse, they hyphenate. What a mess that makes in the school registry."

"I'm sure."

"What brings you out today?"

Hermione explained about her family's situation and her own confusion coming into the magical world. "So, I thought if Muggleborns had the option of taking an enrichment class on daily magic that included cultural information, and domestic spell work, it would be easier for them to fit in."

McGonagall nodded. "That's not a bad idea, but the professors have such a workload already. I'm not sure any of them would be willing to add a class—"

"Actually," Hermione interrupted. "I was thinking Molly might be interested. I spent several weeks at the Burrow after the war and really had an opportunity to learn from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley things no one ever taught us in school. All of her children are out of the house now, and the Order isn't active anymore, so I thought perhaps she might be interested."

McGonagall steepled her fingers. "That's a thought."

"Fleur might be interested too. She's working part-time now for the Ministry in their foreign liaison office, but she might be a good resource for the children who, you know—"

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "Aren't entirely human?"

"Yes."

McGonagall nodded. "You've given me a lot to think about. Let me sit with this a bit, and I'll get back to you."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"No, thank you," McGonagall said standing. The two women shook hands before Hermione took the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, so she could call her mother.

xXx

The magical side of the Leaky Cauldron was as busy as usual, but Hermione went over to the Muggle side. There was an old man in one corner sleeping. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Terry who was wiping down the bar. She tilted her head at the guy in the corner.

"I think he's homeless," Terry said.

"Is he a Squib?"

Terry shrugged. "He just opened the door and came in a couple of weeks ago, and since then, he comes in every day, sits in that corner, and falls asleep."

Hermione looked at the old man. His clothes were worn and he was very thin. She reached into her bag and pulled out two galleons and set them on the bar. "Do me a favor and feed him when he wakes up. When that stops covering his meals, tell me, and I'll give you some more."

Terry nodded. "All right. He's a bit ripe. I think he cleans up in the loo sink, but that doesn't help his clothes."

Hermione slipped her wand out of her pocket and cast a cleaning charm on the old man while he slept.

"Thanks," Terry said.

She put her wand away. "Living rough is hard enough when you have magic. It must be awful without it."

Terry looked at her sympathetically and she blushed. She cleared her throat to break the moment. "Can you place a call to my Mum for me?"

"Sure," Terry said. He dialed the number for her without having to ask for it and held out the handset. She took it and waited for her Mum to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mum. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, dear." But her mother didn't sound fine.

"Have you talked to Gran?"

"She's not answering her phone right now."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea that—"

"Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I probably shouldn't have said—"

"Don't. I'm serious. These are old wounds created long before you came along. You can't blame yourself for this."

"Well, I've taken steps to try and start alleviating this problem for other families."

"Already?"

"Yes. Nothing has happened yet, of course, but I've talked to the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and they both recognized the problem. I won't let go of it, Mum. I'll keep pushing until we fix it."

"Of course, you will, darling."

Hermione sighed. "I just wish there was something I could do to help you."

"There is actually."

"Really? All right. Anything. What do you need?"

"I'd like to meet my aunt."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She hadn't expected that. "Um, well, okay. I mean…of course, but…are you sure that's a good idea? I mean Gran said—"

"I don't care what Mum said. She kept half my family from me for my entire life. Now maybe this woman won't want to know me, but on the off chance that she might, I feel like I've got to try."

"Well, as I told you, I know Madam Scrivenshaft. I can certainly arrange a meeting. Do you want me to tell her who I am before she meets you or…?"

"I don't know. I'd really like to just see her first, even if she doesn't want to meet me. Is there any way I could do that before you tell her?"

"I could take you to Hogsmeade and we could go into the shop during business hours."

"I'm always up for shopping. It would be nice to go to Hogsmeade, since you've mentioned it so many times over the years."

"When would you like to go?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"No. We can get lunch while we're there if you like." Even though they were just making plans that were similar to any other Saturday, Hermione felt her pulse race. Her mind was spinning with the possibilities.

"That sounds lovely."

"I'll send Purdy for you tomorrow at noon then."

"I'll be ready."

After they said their goodbyes, Hermione gave the handset back to Terry. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, my…" Hermione said.

"Everything alright, luv?"

"I guess." Stunned at the turn of events, she walked back through the door to the magical side and out into Diagon Alley. She stared down the street at the massive white structure of Gringotts and blew out a slow breath as she started walking toward it. Even though she knew she was now officially allowed inside the bank, she hadn't been back in there since the war. But if she was going shopping with her mother, she'd need gold. She'd just given her last two galleons to Terry. As she approached the high bronze doors, a shiver passed through her. The last time she'd been through those doors, she'd been Polyjuiced into Bellatrix LeStrange, and she'd left by blowing a hole through the roof to let out the blind dragon she and Ron and Harry were clinging to.

"Bloody hell," she whispered. She blew out another calming breath and tried to relax. She opened the bronze door and quickly stepped into the antechamber. Before she could rethink it, she opened one of the silver doors that lead into the lobby and stepped inside, only to be confronted with her own face in bronze. In the center of the main lobby, cast life-size, were her, Ron, and Harry led by Griphook. It bore absolutely no resemblance to the truth. She was not Bellatrix, Ron was not under a glamour charm, Harry and Griphook were not hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. Instead, it looked as though they had waltzed into the bank behind Griphook and did what they needed to without anyone stopping them. She stood staring at the statue for a moment. _What a load of bollocks_ , she thought. _Oh well, might as well see if this works_. She stepped up to the bank teller. "I'd like to make a withdrawal," she said to the goblin behind the barred window.

"Wand," he said in the same nasal drawl Griphook had spoken with. She handed him her wand. He set it in a slot and it glowed green. Her name must have popped up somewhere in front of him because he suddenly scrutinized her closely, leaning toward her as he scowled, but all he said was, "Amount?"

"Twenty galleons, please." She knew that was a lot, but she didn't fancy coming back into the bank again anytime soon. The goblin frowned deeply at her, but handed her the galleons and her wand back. "Thank you." She turned and walked briskly back outside, ignoring the statue and the looks of everyone else in the bank, as she went. Once outside, she Disapparated back home.

xXx

Ron and Harry were reading in the parlor when Hermione appeared in the foyer. Ron looked over the back of the sofa at her. "Oi, you're home late."

"I know," she said, putting her cloak on the rack by the door. "I'm sorry. After my meeting with McGonagall, I went to the Leaky Cauldron to call Mum. She wants to go shopping tomorrow, so I went to the bank to pick up some gold."

Harry put down the Quidditch magazine he was reading. "You went into Gringotts?"

"Yes."

"How was it?" Ron asked. "I haven't been yet."

"Me neither," Harry said.

Hermione grimaced and sat down next to Ron. "It was weird. They already have the statue up."

"Yeah?" Harry said. "How's it look?"

Hermione shrugged. "Depends. We're faithfully rendered in terms of the statues looking like us, but what it implies about what happened is complete rubbish."

"But we knew that," Ron said.

"I know. But seeing it in person…" She shook her head. "It's just so ridiculous. Not to mention, everyone was staring at me and the goblin who got my galleons was clearly appalled to see me."

"Weren't they supposed to tell us when they put up the statue?" Ron said. "I mean, isn't there usually some sort of ceremony like there was for the painting?"

"I'm guessing, based on my reception today, that the goblins didn't fancy having to shake hands and make nice with us in public, so they just put it up and let people draw their own conclusions, which of course, will be false."

"Great," Harry said sarcastically. "I can't wait to go now."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I want to rush right in and open an account."

"Actually. You probably should. You can't just keep throwing your pay into that chest in our bedroom."

Ron sighed. "I know. I know. Can't you just put it in your account though? You've already seen the bloody statue."

"I can if you like, but don't you want your own account?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't see how it makes any difference. It's all ours anyway."

Hermione leaned over, took his face in her hands, and kissed him soundly on the lips. "You are the sweetest man."

Harry made a gagging noise. "On that note, I'm going to bed. Please try and make it to the bedroom before things get truly repulsive." Hermione frowned at him and Ron raised two fingers at him. Harry chuckled as he went upstairs.

Ron looked at Hermione and waggled his eyebrows. "Are you in the mood for anything truly repulsive?"

She smiled and stood. "I'll race you." She started running, but when Ron almost caught her, she Disapparated.

"Hey," he shouted. "That's not fair!" He could hear her laughing from their bedroom.

xXx

The next day at noon, Hermione stood nervously on the path that lead from Hogwarts down to Hogsmeade. She thought her mother might enjoy the view and that the walk into town might help calm her nerves. Promptly at noon, Purdy appeared with her mother in tow.

"Thank you, Purdy," her mother said.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione added. "I'll take her home from here. I'll see you later."

"Yes, Miss," the little elf replied and disappeared.

Her mother turned to her. "Well, here we are." She looked around. "Where are we?"

Hermione smiled. "If you go up that way, the path goes to Hogwarts. If we go this way, we'll reach the village."

"Oh," her mother said. "I assumed we'd go right to the village."

"We could have done," Hermione said. "But, if you'll follow me, I think you'll like this walk." She led her mother down the path to a bend that opened into a clearing. Hermione stepped off the path and her mother followed.

"Wow," her mother said. The clearing opened onto a spectacular view of the school up on the cliffs overlooking the river as it flowed down to the charming town of Hogsmeade along the banks. "This is lovely."

Hermione smiled. "I think so too. I knew you'd like it." They stood and enjoyed the view for a few minutes. "Shall we get lunch first?" Hermione asked.

Her mother shook her head. "Heavens no. I'm much too nervous to eat. What I'd really like to do is just see her, and get that out of the way, so we can have our day."

Hermione nodded. "Good. I don't think I could eat right now either."

Her mother smiled. "You got my stomach. It's too bad really. Your father can eat anything at any time. Stomach of iron, he has."

"Ron's like that too. The maddest things could be happening around us, and he'd be eating like we were at Sunday dinner."

Her mother chuckled. "How do they do it?"

"I have no idea. The first sign of trouble and I'm off food." Her mother took her arm and they continued down the path. Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop was one of the first shops along the high street. Hermione slowed as they approached. "How do you want to do this?"

"Perhaps I should just go in on my own. I just want to see her at least to start with."

"It's a small shop. If you walk in, she's going to talk to you. It's not as though you can hide behind a display or anything like you could if she worked in a book shop."

"Right." Her mother thought for a moment. "We could just go in together I suppose."

"We could."

"Let's. We'll just see what happens."

Hermione blew out a slow breath. In this regard, she was more like her father, fond of a plan. Her mother was more like Ron, willing to wing it and see what happened. "All right." They continued toward the shop. At the door, she stopped. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Her mother opened the door and stepped inside. The opening door chimed a small bell. Hermione hurried in behind her.

"Good afternoon," Madam Scrivenshaft said. "Oh, hello, Hermione."

"Hi. Madam Scrivenshaft, this is my mother, Monica Granger."

Madam Scrivenshaft came out from behind the counter and stood before them. "Well, of course she is. You two look so much alike." She smiled sadly. "And you both favor my grandmother."

"You know then?" Hermione said, confused.

"Of course, I know, dear. The first time you walked through that door I knew exactly who you were. It took a while for your picture to appear in the _Daily Prophet,_ so I could confirm my suspicions, but I suspected from the start, and I was right."

"Why have you never said anything?"

"I assumed you didn't know."

"I didn't until recently."

"Neither did I," her mother said. "I always thought my mother was an only child."

Madam Scrivenshaft shook her head. "Oh, Honoria." She sighed. "Come and have some tea." She went behind the counter and through a curtain. Hermione and her mother exchanged a glance and then followed. "Ernest," Madam Scrivenshaft called. "Will you go and mind the shop? I've got guests."

"Yes, dear," came a reply. Moments later, Mr. Scrivenshaft passed them in the hall. "Hullo," he said.

"Hello," Hermione said and then followed her mother and great aunt into the kitchen in the living quarters at the back of the shop.

Madam Scrivenshaft touched her wand to the kettle and spooned tea into a pot before filling it with boiling water. She flicked her wand and the pot and three cups landed on the table along with a packet of biscuits that flew out of the larder. Madam Scrivenshaft sat down and poured tea for everyone. "Does anyone need milk or sugar?"

Hermione and her mother both shook their heads.

"Right," Madam Scrivenshaft said. "Most of our family drinks tea black. My husband thinks that's weird."

Hermione and her mother glanced at each other. "Madam Scrivenshaft—"

"Please, call me Hestia," Madam Scrivenshaft said. "Or Auntie, if you'd prefer."

"Um," Hermione said. "All right, can you…I mean…well…" She looked at her mother. "Honestly, I don't know where to begin."

"Then let me start," Hestia said. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you. I read that article in _Magic Today_ about what you and Harry Potter and the Weasley boy did to defeat Voldemort, what you went through." She shook her head. "Shocking."

Hermione's mother gave her a hurt look, and Hermione wished Hestia would shut up about the article and the war, but instead she went on about how awful the Malfoys were, and how they'd gotten off and how wrong that was. She recalled how awful Bellatrix and Lucius had been in school.

"Please," Hermione said. "We're not here to talk about me or the war."

"Of course," Hestia said. "Of course. I just wanted you to know."

"And I appreciate that." Hermione glanced at her mother. "But what I'd really like is to see is if we could sort things out between you and Gran."

Hestia sighed. "I would love that."

"I don't understand," Hermione's mother said. "She thought you'd be angry."

"Angry about what, dear?" Hestia asked.

"Well, that you didn't get Hermione."

Hestia looked confused. "I didn't even know Hermione had been born until she came for her first Hogsmeade weekend, and even then, I wasn't certain, but I had a strong feeling. But when she started dating Viktor Krum and the Potter boy and their photos were in the paper, then I could do the spells to confirm it."

"Just to be clear. I never dated Harry."

"Oh, that's right. I saw that retraction in the paper after the trial. And you married the Weasley boy. Isn't that lovely?"

"Ron, and yes, he's lovely—" Hermione felt like the point was being lost.

"Nonetheless, up until then, I had no idea why Honoria stopped talking to me." Hestia shook her head sadly. "I sent letter after letter asking her what I'd done, but she refused to respond."

"Why didn't you just go ask her?" Hermione's mother said.

"Me, go into the Muggle world?" Hestia said with raised eyebrows. "Good heavens. I wouldn't know how to begin."

"Couldn't you just have taken the Knight Bus?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I hate that contraption."

Hermione sighed. "So, you never suspected why she stopped corresponding?"

"No. At least, not until I saw you. Then I knew."

"But you weren't angry?" Hermione's mother asked.

"Disappointed, yes. Angry, no. But I confess, I didn't understand why you wouldn't want Hermione to know her own family and understand her world better."

"If you mean why didn't I give her to you to raise, I would never have done that. I can't imagine why you'd even expect such a thing, not that I was even aware it was a possibility."

"Give her to me? Well, I suppose you could have done, but you could also just let her see us occasionally, so she'd know about the world she would eventually live in."

"That would've been nice," Hermione said.

Her mother frowned at her. "Well, no one told me that was an option. In fact, until a few days ago, I didn't know my mother even had family, much less a sister who's a witch. Mum told us a few days ago that the rules of the family were that Hermione would've had to go and live with you if you knew about her, so she cut ties so no one would come for her."

Hestia shook her head sadly. "That's not how it works. It's up to the parents."

"Then why does Gran think otherwise?"

Hestia let out a heavy sigh. "Because our Mum was a nutter. When Honoria was just a baby, Mum had a magical accident that left her…not quite right in the head. Dad, well, he loved her, and he wanted her to be happy. She was so sad when I went off to school that she clung to Honoria a bit too much for a bit too long. We knew Honoria was a Squib and she should be staying with the Muggle side of the family during the school year, but Mum couldn't stand to let her go. It didn't help that my father was embarrassed that she was Squib, so when Mum had deteriorated to the point that she had to go into St. Mungo's for good, Dad sent Honoria to live with the Muggle side of the family permanently."

"Is she still in St. Mungo's?" Hermione asked.

"No, dear, she passed about ten years ago. I wrote to tell Honoria, and she wrote me back that time, but whenever I've sent additional letters, she's ignored them."

"What about your father?" Hermione's mother asked.

"I'm sad to say he washed his hands of all of us. He paid for my schooling, but he went off to Europe and I never heard from him again. I tried writing a few times, but he didn't respond, so I gave up. I was so angry at him. It was devastating when Honoria cut me off too. Thank goodness I had Ernest to help me through it all."

Hermione's mother set down her teacup. "I'm so sorry. This all sounds like a horrible misunderstanding."

"Yes," Hestia said. "Although, given her young age, I can see how Honoria would've gotten the whole tit-for-tat thing confused. A lot of times, the children are exchanged as babies, but not always. As I said, it's up to the parents, but poor Honoria got unceremoniously dumped. She hadn't been educated properly. I know because I had to do a lot of remediation at Hogwarts myself. Dad tried to teach me, because Mum wasn't capable, but he had to work too. There are only so many hours in the day. I don't know if he even tried much with Honoria. I did, but I couldn't help her that much before I went off to school."

"That's awful," Hermione said.

Hestia fiddled with a cookie, crumbling it on a plate. "It wasn't good, but I loved Honoria. I still love her. I'd love to see her. It's been far too long, and we're not getting any younger."

"I'll talk to her," Hermione's mother said. "Perhaps, now that I have this new information, we can work out a way for you two to reconnect."

"I'd like that," Hestia said.

They all sat in silence for a moment. Hestia smiled at Hermione's mother. "So, Monica, everyone knows Hermione. Tell me about you."

Hermione smiled as she listed to her mother talk to her great aunt about her life. Not so long ago, she had despaired that she had lost her family forever, but there she sat with her old family restored and new family to get to know.

xXx

It was over an hour before Hermione and her mother left Scrivenshaft's.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked.

"Not really, are you?"

"I'm full of short bread."

Her mother chuckled. "Me too." She bit her bottom lip. "Would you mind terribly if we put our shopping off for another time. I'm feeling…I don't know…"

"Overwhelmed?"

"I suppose."

"Me too. I'm fine to take you home. We'll come back and go shopping some other time."

"Good," her mother said. "Because I really want to do that."

"Me too." Hermione held out her arm. "Come on then." They Disapparated back to London.


	7. Half-Truths

When they landed inside the foyer of her parents' condo, her mother turned to her and frowned. "I want to read that article Hestia mentioned."

Hermione sighed. "No, you don't."

Her mother's frown deepened. "Don't tell me what I want." She marched into the parlor and through to the kitchen.

Hermione followed. "Mum—"

"Hullo," her father said. "You two are home early." He was standing in the kitchen holding a glass of orange juice and judging from how he was dressed and how sweaty he was, he'd just gotten back from playing squash.

"We decided not to go shopping after we met my aunt."

"Hermione's father's brow furrowed with concern. "Did it not go well?"

"It went fine," her mother said. "But it was a lot to take in. She's very proud of Hermione though. She kept going on about some article in _Magical Times_ or something."

" _Magic Today,_ " Hermione said.

"Yes, well, whatever, we haven't seen it."

Her father raised his eyebrows at Hermione and she sighed again. "Please, please, believe me, you don't want to read it."

"Why not?" her father asked. They were both frowning at her.

She groaned. "Because it's…it's not…look, I've done things that…" She shook her head. "It's not the whole truth, but it's a partial truth that will upset you, which is why I didn't show it to you."

"I don't understand," her mother said. "If it's so bad, why was Hestia so proud."

"Because, she doesn't know all the…" She sighed. "She never saw the aftermath of some of those events. You two had to suffer through consequences no one else knows about. There's no reason to drag all that back up."

Her mother shook her head. "You've lied to us, and you're still lying."

"Monica," her father said, clearly shocked.

"Why can't you just tell us the truth? Hasn't there been enough lying and covering things up in this family. Haven't you seen enough of how that ends?"

"Monica, that's not fair."

His wife turned on him. "Oh, please! Since when are you okay about all this?"

Hermione felt sick. Now that her mother had heard about the article, she was fixated on it. She'd never let it go. With a heavy heart, Hermione opened her beaded bag and began rummaging around. She had the magazine somewhere in there. Sylvia had handed her a copy at work. She'd stuck it in her bag after reading it and never pulled it out again. Of course, she could cast Accio, but she wanted the extra time looking for it to try and think of what to say to them. She knew they were going to hate it. When she finally found it, she laid it on the counter. "There."

Her mother reached for the magazine, but Hermione kept her hand on top of it. "Before you read it, understand that you won't be able to unread it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" her father asked.

"There are things mentioned in this article that I never told you, because I was trying to protect you, and I didn't want you to pull me out of school. There are other things the article leaves out, because we don't talk about them to anyone, so it's an abbreviated version, but some of the interviews with other people make it seem…I don't know…worse somehow. So, you can read this, but if there are things that don't make sense to you, I can't promise to explain them, but understand that's nothing to do with you or how I feel about you. We don't tell anyone all of what happened."

"We, meaning you and Ron?" her mother asked.

"We, meaning me, Ron and Harry. You'll see us referred to as the 'Golden Trio' because the three of us did this." She took her hand off the magazine. "I'm going to go home now."

Her parents looked at her.

"And I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." She lifted her wand and Disapparated.

xXx

When Ron got home from playing Quidditch with Harry and his brothers and a couple of other players from Gryffindor, Hermione was sitting in the study drinking a glass of wine and reading. Crookshanks was curled up at her feet. Ron sat next to her in the other chair. "You're home early."

"Yes. We decided not to go shopping after we talked to Madam Scrivenshaft, although I guess I'm to call her Auntie Hestia now."

He raised his eyebrows. "It went well then?"

"I suppose. Better than I expected anyway."

"Great," Ron said, glancing at the wine bottle. "What's wrong then?"

Hermione shook her head. "She said how proud she was of me after reading that article in _Magic Today_."

"Okay." Ron was confused about what the problem was. None of them cared for the article, it was too sensational, but it had been out for a while.

"Mum, of course, hadn't read the article. I was hoping she'd forgotten about it, but the second we landed in the condo, she was on me. She's very upset about the whole situation with Gran and her sister. I know that's why she went at me about it. She accused me of keeping things from them. She called me a liar." A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Hey," Ron said, sliding out of the chair and on to his knees in front of her. "That's not on."

Her lip trembled and she looked away from him. "I am a liar though. I lied to them all through school."

"We all did that." Ron brush her cheek with his fingers. "We had to."

"I know, but that doesn't change what we did."

"Right." Ron nodded. "We bloody saved the world, didn't we?"

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes and nodded. "Yes. Yes, we did."

"Are you going to let them read it?"

"I left it for them. I'm not sure what they'll think of it."

"Come here," he said and leaned forward to hug her.

There was a knock on the front door. Ron looked at her as he drew his wand. "Were you expecting anyone?"

"No," she drew her own wand. No one ever came to their front door. They left the study and carefully approached the door.

Ron looked through the peephole. "It's your mum and dad."

It was pouring rain outside, so when Ron opened the door, her parents hurried inside.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked.

Her mother held up the magazine. "This happened."

"Seriously?" Hermione frowned. "I gave you the potion that allows you to see through anti-Muggle shielding for emergencies."

"This feels like an emergency," her mother said.

Behind her, Hermione's father grimaced and shook his head.

"Let me take your coats." Ron hung up their wet coats on the rack by the door, cast a drying charm on them, and then followed Hermione and her parents into the parlor. Her mother was clearly agitated, and he could see Hermione brace herself for the expected onslaught as he walked into the parlor. Her mother perched anxiously on the edge of one of the sofas. Hermione's father sat next to his wife and looked resigned and worried. Hermione sat calmly on the sofa across from her and crossed her legs and had her hands folded in her lap. Ron knew that posture. It was a practiced position to appear unbothered. He also knew she likely wouldn't be able to hold it very long with her parents. They got under her skin like no one else with the exception of maybe him.

"Could I get anyone a cup of tea?" Ron asked, as though this were a regular visit. "Or perhaps something stronger."

"Not right now, thanks Ron," Hermione's mother said. She looked drawn and pained.

Ron looked at Hermione trying to ascertain whether he should stay or give them some privacy. She very subtly moved her pinkie, and he knew what she wanted. He sat next to her, took her hand, and looked at her parents. They all sat in silence.

Her mother spoke first. "I'm sorry to come unannounced like this. And I'm sorry about the potion, but after we read the article, well, I just couldn't stay home. I needed…" She looked at her husband for support and he patted her hand. "I just had to see you."

Ron could feel Hermione begin to uncoil. "Mum?" she said hesitantly.

"That woman we met, the beautiful one who's married to Ron's brother—" Her mother said.

"Fleur," Hermione said.

"Yes. She's interviewed in the article. She said…" Her voice broke and she looked at her husband again. "She said when you came to them…after what happened to you…she said the three of you were emaciated. That you'd been starving in the woods, that—" She shook her head.

"It wasn't as bad as all that," Hermione said, leaning toward them. "Actually, once Ron got back, we had some very good meals, we just didn't have enough time to put any weight back on before we were captured."

"I don't understand," her mother said. "Where was Ron?"

"He had to leave us for a while," Hermione answered before Ron could. "But he came back at absolutely the right time, saved Harry's life, recovered a magical sword that we really needed, and hunted and fished and fed us well after that."

Ron held back the derisive snort he wanted to let out. He had to hand it to Hermione, she was very good at wrapping a lie in the truth so it sounded true. "Well is probably stretching it a bit, don't you think?" Ron said.

"No," Hermione said, looking at him. "I don't."

"And when you came home after fifth year with that horrible scar, that was from fighting with those evil people."

"Death Eaters," Ron said. "Yeah. That turned out to be a terrible idea. Lucky we weren't all killed."

"Why?" her mother said. "Why would you do such a reckless, irresponsible thing?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged an uncomfortable look.

"Just young and stupid, I guess." Hermione glanced at Ron. "I'm sorry I lied to you two about that. I was afraid if you knew what really happened, you would never let me go back to school."

"Quite right," her father said.

Her mother stood and started pacing. She was crying.

Hermione stood too. "Tell me what I can do to make this right?"

But her mother didn't seem to have words anymore. She threw her arms around Hermione and hugged her tight. Hermione's father stood and hugged her from behind, so that she was sandwiched between both parents, who murmured things in her ear as they held her tight. Ron marveled, not for the first time, at how small her family was and on the burden that must be for Hermione. _She was the basket in which her parents had all their eggs._ _That must feel like the weight of the world_ , he thought. They held Hermione like that for a what seemed like a long time before they let go.

"I'm sorry," her mother said, wiping her face on her sleeve. "It's been such a trying week."

"It's all right, Mum."

"I'm sorry I wasted the potion on my hysteria," her mother said.

Hermione waved her off. "Don't be. I'll make some more. It's not a problem."

Ron knew for a fact that the potion was actually quite complicated and took days and multiple steps to get right, but he held his tongue.

"Let's get you home," Hermione's father said, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders.

Hermione's mother nodded weakly. She touched Hermione's cheek.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too. Go home. Try and get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

Her mother nodded and let her husband lead her out. Hermione walked them to the door.

When she returned to the parlor, Ron raised his eyebrows at her. "You all right?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I knew the article would upset them. Normally, it would be Dad I'd expect to be dealing with. I think if Mum hadn't been so upset, he likely would have had a lot more to say, but she's a wreck, and he's clearly worried about her. It's not like her to fall apart like that."

"I don't understand. I thought things went well with Madam Scrivenshaft."

"She's not the problem. As usual, Gran is. Mum just doesn't know what to do about her. I'll go over there tomorrow and we can talk about it." She sighed.

"You're exhausted. Let's go to bed."

"It's only nine," she protested.

"Doesn't matter. You need sleep. You've been tossing and turning a lot the last few days. Maybe you should take a draught."

"No. I'll be okay. I'm so tired, I think I'll sleep fine tonight."

"All right. Off you pop then. I'll lock up and be there in a tick."

She nodded, and he watched her walk upstairs. He hated that she had to deal with the whole complicated situation essentially alone. There just wasn't much he could do to help. Family was complicated and hers seemed more complicated than most.

xXx

Sunday night, Ron was sitting on the sofa reading a Quidditch magazine. Hermione was stretched out, with her head in his lap, sound asleep. He looked down at her and smiled, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. There was a tiny spot of drool on his thigh. She'd hate that. He chuckled. He heard a small pop in the foyer and knew Harry was back. He'd Apparated to Wales yesterday evening to spend time with Ginny before she left on a week-long set of matches in Europe with the Holyhead Harpies. Harry stepped into the living room and immediately threw his hand over his eyes and turned around. "Oh, for goodness sake!"

"She's just sleeping mate. Pull yourself together."

Harry turned back around. "Sorry, I thought you two might've forgotten I was coming back here tonight."

"No one forgot. Besides, we follow the rules. No one wants to upset Purdy."

Harry cocked his head and looked at Hermione. "It's not like her to sleep through a conversation."

"I gave her a draught." Ron lifted her head and slid a sofa pillow under as he got up. He stretched and yawned. "She didn't sleep much last night or the night before, or for most of the week really, so she was getting quite cross and bitchy. I finally convinced her to take a draught about an hour ago."

"Why didn't she take it upstairs and go to bed?"

"In addition to being cross and bitchy, she was also pretty unreasonable."

"Ah."

Ron walked into the kitchen and pulled a couple of bottles of ale out of the icebox. He handed one to Harry. "This situation with her mum and her gran is a bloody nightmare, literally. She's been having nightmares since this whole thing started."

"Really?" Harry snapped his fingers and the tops came off both bottles and sailed over to the trash bin. "Why?"

Ron looked down at his bottle and smiled. "Nice." He sighed. "The subject of the war keeps coming up. Her gran asking to see a list of the dead was what started all this. Then her parents read that article in _Magic Today._ " Harry made a face. "And it upset them. They came over here unannounced last night." He shook his head. "I just wish they could get the whole thing sorted. It's taking quite a toll on her, as if she doesn't have enough on her mind. And now she and her mum are going back over to her gran's house tomorrow night after work."

"Why didn't they just go today?" Harry asked. "Don't they all have Sunday off."

"Apparently, today is her gran's bridge club, whatever the hell that is, and loads of people are coming to her house."

"My aunt used to belong to a bridge club, although when she wasn't around, my uncle would say it was a dessert club that served wine."

"I don't get it." Ron took a long drink of ale.

"People get together and play cards, and I guess also have wine and dessert."

"Then why is it called bridge?"

"That's the name of the card game. I don't know why it's called that."

"Huh. Muggles are weird. Anyway, her gran couldn't see them today, so instead she and her mum both get to work all day tomorrow and then deal with that mess."

"Fun."

"Anything but. I just wish it wasn't so hard on her or that I could do something, but…" He shrugged. "Family." He went back into the parlor and sat on the sofa next to Hermione who was still sound asleep.

Harry sat on the sofa across from them. "You'll never guess who I heard from today."

Ron took another drink of ale. "Please don't say Draco. I just don't have the energy to deal with his—"

"Not Draco, Dudley."

"Who?"

"My cousin, Dudley, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Ron nodded. "Big guy."

"Right, he sent me a letter." Harry pulled the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Ron.

Ron turned it over to see 'Harry Potter' and beneath that, 'Hogwarts' scrawled across the envelope. "That's it?" He just addressed it to Harry Potter, Hogwarts?"

"I guess that's all he knew. He stuck it in the regular Muggle post, so it went to the Dead Letter Office, where a Squib found it and sent it to McGonagall, because it was addressed to Hogwarts. She attached a note to it, gave it to her owl, and told him to take it to me at the Ministry."

"How long did all that take?" Ron asked.

"Ages, the card inside is from Christmas before last. McGonagall thinks the Squib held it, because he knew there were problems at Hogwarts last year."

Ron handed the envelope back to Harry. "What did he want?"

"That's the thing. He wanted to know if I was okay. He said we should get together."

Ron was surprised. "I thought you two didn't get along."

"We didn't when we were kids, but the last time I saw him, well, ever since I saved him from those Dementors, really, he was pretty nice. He didn't understand why I wasn't going into hiding with him and his parents."

"Will wonders never cease?"

Harry shrugged. "Thing is, all that stuff with Hermione's family and then getting this card, well, it has me thinking about my own family. I mean, I doubt seriously my aunt and uncle ever want to see me again, but if Dudley does, I don't know. It might be nice to see him every once in a while, maybe have dinner or something. At the very least, I'm going to let him know I'm okay, and that I'm engaged to be married. What do you reckon?"

Ron scratched at his late day stubble. "My family can be bloody annoying, but I wouldn't trade any of 'em. I reckon, if I were in your shoes, and I had a chance at making a connection with my cousin, I'd go for it. What have you got to lose?"

"That's just it. Nothing. I've got nothing to lose." Ron nodded and Harry smiled. "I guess that's that then. I'm going to head up." He looked at Hermione. "What are you going to do about her? Cast Mobilicorpus?"

"Nah, I'll just enlarge the sofa and sleep down here."

"You know," Harry said, smirking. "You could spend the night upstairs. It won't kill you two to sleep apart. Ginny and I manage."

Ron nodded. "But you hate it."

Harry sighed. "Yeah. All right then. Goodnight."

"Night," Ron drew his wand to enlarge the sofa. A few minutes later, he rolled Hermione over and settled in next to her.

xXx

The following night, Hermione Apparated with her mother into her gran's foyer. She was a little nervous, but at least, she was well rested. Ron was right to suggest the draught. She felt more clear-headed and calmer than she had all week. She looked at her mother. "You ready?"

Her mother nodded grimly. "Mum?"

"In the parlor, Monica," came her gran's reply. Hermione and her mother went into the parlor where her grandmother had set out biscuits and a pot of tea. "You two are right on time. Tea?"

"Yes, please," Hermione said.

"It's a bit late, so it's decaf. I hope that's okay," her gran said as she poured a cup and handed it to her.

"That's fine," Hermione said.

"Monica?" her gran asked.

"Sure."

Hermione could tell she was anxious to tell her mother about visiting her sister.

"Listen, I asked to see you tonight because Saturday, Hermione took me to Hogsmeade."

Her grandmother stopped fidgeting with the tea things and stared at Hermione and her mother. "Hogsmeade? You couldn't have. Muggles can't go there."

"Muggles can go there if they're taken by someone magical. They couldn't find it on their own, because it has anti-Muggle charms. No roads lead to it and it doesn't appear on any map, but I led her into town."

Her grandmother shook her head. "I didn't…I thought that wasn't allowed."

"It wouldn't be okay to take some random Muggle off the street, no," Hermione said. "But Mum already knows about the magical world, so she's allowed. So is Dad. He visited me at work not long ago. It's a bit of an ordeal, but it's doable."

"Really?" her grandmother said sadly. "I used to live to there. I had no idea."

"You grew up in Hogsmeade?" Hermione said.

"Yes. We lived above my mum's shop there until she got sick. Dad tried to run it after that, but he wasn't as powerful as mum, and he wasn't so good with the customers either."

"What sort of shop?" Hermione asked.

"An apothecary," her grandmother said.

"Your sister runs a shop in Hogsmeade," Hermione's mother said. "Only they sell pens and stationery."

"What?" her grandmother said.

"She married Ernest Scrivenshaft of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop," Hermione said.

"I know that!" her grandmother snapped. "You saw her?"

"Yes," Hermione's mother said. "What a lovely person. She was very nice."

"You spoke to her?" Her grandmother's face had gone quite red.

"Gran—"

"You had no right to do that!" her grandmother shouted.

"I had every right to do it!" her mother shouted back. "She's my aunt. I'm allowed to speak to my own aunt."

Her grandmother sat back with her mouth open, clearly aghast.

"Gran," Hermione said gently. "It went really well. She's not angry at you at all. She'd love to see you."

"No. I can't go back there."

"You can though. I can take you. Or I could have Purdy do it if you prefer. It's perfectly safe."

Her grandmother shook her head. "No. It's too much. Absolutely not."

Hermione started to say something, but her mother held up her hand to stop her. "What if we were all to meet at the house in Heathgate? Hermione and her husband live there now, so it's a magical house, but I could drive you there."

Her grandmother looked from one to the other. "Maybe. Do you think Hestia would be willing to do that? She's never been willing to come into the Muggle world before."

"It wouldn't really be the Muggle world," Hermione said. "Our house is a bit of both worlds."

Her grandmother stared at her hands for a long moment. "Well, I suppose that might work."

Hermione smiled. "Great. I'll set it up then."

Her mother glanced at her nervously before saying. "So, Mum, how did bridge go yesterday?"

xXx

It was late when Hermione arrived home. Crookshanks greeted her in the foyer. She leaned over and rubbed the cat's head as he wrapped himself around her ankles. There was no light on in the parlor as she walked through, but Purdy appeared at the kitchen door. "Does Miss need anything?"

"No, thank you, Purdy. I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'll see you in the morning. As she walked upstairs, she was surprised to see light under the bedroom door. She opened it to find Ron sitting up in bed reading. "Hi."

He looked up and smiled. "Finally, I expected you back hours ago."

"I know." She sat on the edge of the bed and removed her shoes. "I thought I'd be back earlier too, but Mum and Gran started reminiscing. I couldn't exactly cut them off because I wanted to go home. Not that I wasn't interested in listening to their stories. I've never heard most of them, because we didn't see Gran much when I was little and then after second year, not at all." She yawned.

"It went well then?" Ron said.

She looked at him and bit her bottom lip. "Yes. I hope you won't be mad but Mum made a suggestion, and I didn't say no."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What kind of suggestion?"

"That Gran and her sister meet here as a kind of neutral setting."

He shrugged. "Please, we've had my whole bloody family here loads of times. A few of yours shouldn't be too much trouble."

"Yes, well, your family gets along though, don't they?"

"Sure, for the most part, but come on, how much trouble can a couple of old ladies be?"

Hermione sighed. "I guess we'll find out on Saturday."

xXx

Saturday afternoon, Harry took the Knight Bus to Surrey to meet Dudley at the Dog and Pheasant. When he came into the pub, he immediately saw Dudley sitting at a corner table with a large lager in front of him. When he saw Harry, he got to his feet and smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Harry," he said, sticking out his meaty paw.

Harry shook it. "Hey Dudley. How's it going?"

"Good, good," Dudley looked around. "I thought you were bringing your fiancé."

"Yeah, she'll be here in a little while. She's coming from work."

"Oh, okay," Dudley took his seat. "What does she do?"

Harry sat opposite him. "She's a professional Quidditch player."

"A what?"

"It's a sport, kind of like," he thought for a moment. "Well, it's not really like anything. I mean, one way you score is by putting a type of ball through a hoop, so in that way, I guess it's like basketball."

"Oh. A professional athlete though. That's cool. She must be pretty fit."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, very."

Dudley smiled back and waggled his eyebrows. "Look at you."

Harry laughed. "She's more than that though, you know? She's smart and funny, powerful, and so brave. I can't even tell you. Wait until you meet her. She's amazing."

"Bloody hell, Harry. You've got it bad."

Harry chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. I really do, but enough about me. How are things going for you?"

"Well, I'm not dating a professional athlete, but I'm good. I'm sharing a semi-detached down the road with a mate and his girlfriend right now, but in the fall, I'm going to the University of Warwick to study mechanical engineering."

"That's great."

"I think so. Mum is upset because she wanted me to go to the University of Surrey. Like I want to live in the same bloody county my whole life. It's only two hours north but she acts like I'm moving to Australia."

Harry chuckled, because he wasn't surprised at all. "At least you know she loves you."

Dudley shook his head. "I know, but I'm a grown man. You should've seen the fuss she raised over my gap year backpacking in Europe. Thank goodness Dad intervened for me. Otherwise, I think she might've hung on to my leg."

Harry laughed outright at that. "I can see her doing that."

"I know, right?" Dudley smiled and shook his head. "So, what are you doing these days?"

"I'm an Auror, which is kind of like a cross between a cop and MI5."

Dudley raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "That sounds pretty cool."

"It can be. At least I feel like I'm making a difference, you know?"

The bell over the pub's door jingled and Harry looked back to see Ginny come through. She looked around and he waved.

"Are you kidding me?" Dudley whispered to him. "How on earth did you pull her?"

Harry grinned at him and they both stood as Ginny approached the table. "Hiya, Harry."

"Hiya, Gin, this is my cousin Dudley."

Dudley stuck out his hand, and Ginny shook it before they all sat down. Dudley smiled and shook his head. "You're marrying this bloke?" He pointed his thumb at Harry.

Ginny nodded. "Absolutely."

"Wow." Dudley said good-naturedly. "Go figure."

Ginny looked confused. She turned to Harry.

"He doesn't know," Harry explained.

"Seriously?" Ginny said.

Harry shrugged. "How would he?"

"Somebody want to clue me in?" Dudley asked.

Ginny leveled her gaze at him. "He's Harry Potter."

Harry chuckled at Dudley's confused expression. "That doesn't mean anything to him."

Dudley looked from one to the other. "What's it supposed to mean?"

Ginny looked at Harry. "You haven't told him? What have you two been talking about?"

"Just catching up," Harry said.

"How can you catch up without mentioning the war?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged again, but he could feel himself blushing. "Dudley doesn't want to hear all that."

Ginny frowned at him.

"Yeah, I do," Dudley said.

Ginny gave Harry a pointed look. He sighed. "We shouldn't talk about it in public."

Ginny and Dudley both looked around at the empty pub. Harry sighed again and stood. "I'll go get drinks." He walked up to the bar while Ginny began the story.


	8. Neutral Ground

In London, Hermione was standing outside of the anti-Muggle wards around the house waiting for her mother and grandmother to arrive. A tight fist of nerves clenched in her stomach that made her want to spend the day in bed instead of dealing with her family. She tried to focus on the positive possibilities of the day as opposed to the complete catastrophe it could be. Finally, she saw her mother's Mercedes driving up the street. She got to her feet and waved. Her mother parked along the curb.

"I don't understand," her grandmother was saying as they got out of the car. "Why would they have gotten rid of the driveway?"

"We didn't get rid of it," Hermione said. "It's just hidden like the house. Give me your hand, Gran." She took her grandmother's hand and then her mother's and walked them through the magical curtain that surrounded the house.

"Ah, there it is," her grandmother said. "Looks the same as before."

"Wait until you get inside," her mother said. "It's completely different."

Hermione led them into the parlor where Ron was waiting. "Gran, this is my husband, Ron Weasley."

Ron smiled as her grandmother looked him up and down. "My goodness, you're tall."

"Not really. I'm only five-six, but Hermione wanted a taller husband, so she made me like this."

Her grandmother turned to Hermione with a shocked expression.

Hermione frowned at Ron. "He's joking."

He chuckled. "Well, I'll leave you ladies to it. If you need me for anything, I'll be upstairs."

Hermione knew was going to listen to the wireless or read in bed. She was so jealous. "Have a seat," she said to her mother and grandmother. "Purdy?" she called. "Can you bring the tea things out?"

A moment later an enormous tray floated over to the coffee table. There was a three tier stand of sandwiches, scones, and sweets along with a large pot of tea and some small plates. "Help yourselves." Hermione glanced nervously at the fireplace. "Mada— I mean, Auntie Hestia should be along any minute."

Her grandmother poured herself a cup of tea and looked around. "I don't miss having to see by candlelight. Electric light is so much brighter."

"Unless you're constantly popping bulbs. It's quite dark then," Hermione said.

"I suppose," her grandmother said. "The place looks really different."

"I think it looks good," her mother said. "It's warm and welcoming."

"Why are there so many sofas?"

"They're nice for conversation when we have a lot of people over."

"Party people, are you?" Her grandmother said with undisguised disapproval.

"No," Hermione said. "Mostly it's Ron's family that comes over. He's one of seven."

"Seven?" her grandmother said. "That's an awful lot of children even by Muggle standards."

"Yes," Hermione said awkwardly.

The fireplace glowed green and Hestia stepped out into the parlor. Hermione's grandmother got to her feet and the two women stood staring at each other.

"You're looking well, Honoria," Hestia finally said.

"You too, Hestia," Hermione's grandmother responded and then they resumed staring at each other. There was a marked difference in the two women. Even though Hestia was older, she looked decades younger than Hermione's grandmother. Hermione had never seen the dramatic aging difference in Muggles and magical people so clearly illustrated.

"Welcome to my home," Hermione said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?"

That seemed to break the spell and the two women sat down. Hermione poured Hestia a cup of tea and handed it to her.

"You have a lovely home," Hestia said, looking around.

"Thank you. I grew up here. My parents gave it to us as a wedding gift."

"Ah," Hestia said. "What a generous gift," she said to Hermione's mother.

"Well," Monica said, smiling. "We didn't need all this space. We've got a large condo now. It suits us better. We travel a lot these days."

"Good for you," Hestia said. "Travel is good for the soul. Don't you think?"

Monica nodded, but Honoria huffed. "You won't even go into the Muggle world. What would you know about travel?"

"There are magical places all over the world. Ernest and I take a trip every year at Solstice."

"That sounds nice," Hermione said. "Ron and I have talked about doing more travel."

"You should," her mother said. "While you're still young, before you have children."

"Yes," her grandmother agreed. She took a cucumber sandwich and started eating. "This is wonderful."

"Purdy is an excellent cook," Hermione said.

Hestia took a scone.

Monica looked at her mother and her aunt. "I want to know about my biological parents."

Hestia looked up from her scone. Honoria put down her sandwich.

"What were they like?" Monica asked.

Hestia looked at her sister, who looked away. "Well, they were…I didn't know your mother well. She was a Muggle. They lived in London, near Diagon Alley but on the Muggle side. I think your Mum was some sort of healer. Landen, your father, was our cousin. He worked at Flourish & Blotts.

"Did they have any other children?" her mother asked. "Ones they kept. Do I have siblings somewhere?"

"No, dear," Hestia said. "Your mother died when you were still a baby."

"What? Why doesn't it say that on the tree?" She looked at Hermione.

"Because there isn't any information about the Muggles except their names," Hermione said. "Remember? I explained that to you. Muriel didn't have access to all that, so she just left it off."

"I don't understand," Monica said. "What happened to her?"

Hestia thought for a moment. "She was killed in an automobile crash, I believe."

"And my father?"

"He was in no fit state to raise a baby, especially a Squib, so Honoria took you."

"Where is he now?"

Hestia looked at Honoria who nodded. "Well, dear, he…understand we tried to find him with location spells, but he must have cast obfuscation spells because…" She sighed. "He seems to have slipped into the Muggle world and disappeared."

"What?" Monica looked at Hermione. "How is that possible?"

"Muggles can't come into the magical world," Hermione said. "But nothing stops us living in yours."

"But I thought you said Ron wasn't a citizen and didn't have a passport or an NHS card."

"He doesn't."

Her mother frowned. "Then how could he live in the Muggle world. Where would he get money or—"

"All of that paperwork and even money can be faked with magic. It's wrong, but it's not difficult if you have the skills."

"Landen definitely had the skills. The bigger question is why he wanted to do that?" Hestia said. "Unfortunately, after he gave you to me to give to Honoria, he Disapparated and we never saw him again, so there was no way to ask."

"I don't understand," Monica said. "Where would he go?"

"Well, he didn't stay in their flat. Ernie went looking for him there, but he was gone and didn't leave a forwarding address."

Monica stood abruptly and went into the kitchen. Hermione glanced at Hestia and her grandmother before following her mother.

"Mum?" Hermione said, but her mother had gone through the kitchen and into the back garden. Hermione followed to find her looking at the Dirigible Plum bush Ron had planted from a cutting Luna had given them.

Her mother looked at her. "This is new."

"Yes. It was gift from a friend. It'll fruit in the summer with these lovely little floating plums."

"Floating plums?"

"They're tethered to the plant, of course, until they ripen and float away. You have to watch closely in the summer for when they're ready to pick. They make really good jam."

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea when I started all this that—"

Her mother shook her head. "Don't apologize. It's good to know. I've always wondered. Actually, I'm sorry for you. It must have been so much easier not to have to deal with all this. I sometimes wonder if you regret restoring our memories."

"Not for a second."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Seriously? Wasn't it better to be free from all this?"

Hermione shook her head, a lump forming in her throat. "Having no family is a terrible freedom."

Her mother hugged her and kissed the side of her face. "I'm so sorry, darling. Sometimes, I forget what you went through. I think it slips my mind, because I wish so desperately that it didn't happen."

Hermione nodded against her shoulder and hugged her back.

xXx

When everyone had finally left, Hermione went upstairs to their bedroom where Ron was listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless. She fell face first on to the bed.

"It went well then?" Ron joked.

"It was barely civil," was Hermione's muffled response.

"I didn't hear any shouting, so it couldn't have been too bad."

Hermione rolled over and glared at him. "There was a tremendous amount of hurt silence."

Ron grimaced. "Oh. I think I'd prefer shouting."

"Yes." Hermione rolled back over on to her face.

Ron patted her back. "You did what you could. It's up to them now."

Hermione groaned. "Why is this so hard? You're lucky your family gets along."

"They do now. Have you forgotten that mess with Percy?"

Hermione sat up. "That's resolved though."

"Yeah. But it took a while. Things with your gran and her sister will get sorted too. You just have to be patient and let them work it out."

"I know. I just want everyone to be happy."

Ron leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Of course, you do, but it takes time. This mess wasn't made in a day, so it's not likely to be fixed in one."

She sighed. "I think I'm going to take a bath and read for a while."

"That's a good idea. Relax. You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to take the wireless back downstairs and finish listening to the match."

"Okay."

xXx

When Harry arrived a little while later, Ron was in the parlor. The Quidditch match had reached its fourth hour with no end in sight as Yorkshire battled Cork in a torrential downpour.

"How's the match going?" Harry asked, as he came into the parlor.

"Wretched. Apparently, they can barely see the hoops and finding the Snitch is all but impossible."

Harry shook his head. "Better them than me."

"Gin didn't come back with you?"

"No, she had to get back for a team meeting tonight. She'll be home next weekend though."

"Excellent. How did things go with your cousin?"

"Surprisingly good. He's a lot more fun now that he's not living with his parents anymore."

"There you go then."

"Yeah, I mean, I don't think we're going to be best mates or anything, but it was nice seeing him, and I don't want to lose touch."

"That's great then."

Harry sat down. "Ginny was kind of appalled that he didn't know more about me."

"Uh oh." Ron knew how Ginny could be when she was appalled.

"She didn't hex him or anything."

"Good."

"But she did regale him with many stories of my exploits, always painting me in the most heroic light possible."

Ron chuckled. "Of course, she did."

Harry shook his head. "That woman."

"Yeah. It's terrible how much she loves you. That must be awful."

Harry snorted. "I can barely manage. Where's Hermione? Didn't she have her thing with her mum and gran today."

Ron nodded. "She's upstairs reading in the bath trying to relax."

"Was it that bad?"

Ron shrugged. "I didn't stay down here for the whole palaver, but it wasn't perfect so Hermione was disappointed."

"Ah." Harry rubbed his cheek. "Unreasonable expectations."

"A little bit."

Harry chuckled. "That's our girl."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely."

xXx

After another hour of listening to the Quidditch match with no end in sight, Ron turned it off and went upstairs to check on Hermione to see if perhaps she might want some company in the tub. He tapped on the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

He cracked the door open. "It's just me, can I come in?"

"Sure." She let her book drop to the floor.

"What some company?"

She smiled at him. "Okay, but can we talk for a bit?"

"Of course." Ron pulled off his shirt. "Budge over." Hermione slid forward in the tub and he got behind her, stretching his legs around her, thankful that her parents had put an oversized tub in their bathroom when they'd remodeled it some years ago. He kissed the back of her neck. "What's on your mind?"

"This might sound crazy, but have you ever noticed that sometimes things come together in kind of weird coincidences?"

"We call that magic, luv."

"Do we?" Hermione turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Yes. When things fall into place without anyone making it happen, that's just magic sorting things out."

"Hmm." She leaned back against him. "Something happened the other day, and I'm wondering if it might not be magic."

Ron was surprised. "You don't know if something is magic? That doesn't sound like you."

"Well, I didn't recognize it at the time, but now I'm thinking it might be."

"You want to tell me what it is?"

She explained about the disappearance of her maternal grandfather.

"Okay. That's sad, but—"

"That's not the whole of it. I was in the Leaky Cauldron the other day, on the Muggle side to make a phone call, and there was a man that Terry thought was a homeless Muggle. He comes into the Leaky Cauldron every day and sits in a corner, sleeping. I gave Terry a couple of galleons to feed him when he comes in. I told him to let me know when that ran out, and I'd give him some more."

Ron resisted the urge to balk at the expense. "That was nice of you."

"I just felt bad for him, because sleeping rough was hard enough for us, and we had magic and a tent. Anyway, I also cast a cleaning charm on him, because he was a bit ripe."

"Again, nice, but—"

"The thing is, I don't usually pay any mind that sort of thing. I mean, I'm not saying I'm callous, but I grew up in London. You sort of learn to turn a blind eye. I'm not saying that's right, and maybe because of the war, I'm more sensitive now, but what if that's not it?"

"You've lost me."

"What if that was Landen Wright? What if he's been coming into the Leaky Cauldron because he's contemplating coming back into the magical world?"

Ron leaned back and let out a slow breath. "Wow. I don't know, that's kind of a leap, but simple enough to find out, isn't it?"

Hermione shifted around to look at him. "Yes, it is."

"Tomorrow then?" Ron asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Right after work?"

He nodded. "Of course."

She looked at him for a moment. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for not mocking what is probably a fool's errand."

Ron shook his head. "In the past, mocking your ideas never worked out for me."

She smiled.

"Besides, you're a powerful witch and about to have a birthday. Magic flows toward you."

"No, it doesn't," she scoffed.

He frowned at her. "You took the same magical theory classes I did. You know I'm right."

She shook her head. "Magic flows toward Harry."

"Magic flows toward both of you. How else are the three of us still alive?"

"Because Harry was the Chosen One."

"Yeah, which sort of explains him, but not entirely."

"Well, it's not like you didn't have a hand in it."

"Of course. I'm a strong wizard too. I don't deny that, and I'm not saying I didn't play a significant part, because I did, but we all know, your part was more significant than mine, and it isn't just because you're so bloody loyal."

She sat blinking at him for a moment before saying, "You really think magic flows toward me?"

"Yeah, I do. I didn't marry you just because you let me see your tits." He winked at her.

She glanced down and realized most of the bubbles between them had burst during their conversation. She laughed and threw herself at him, splashing water all over the floor.

xXx

The next day, Hermione had to deal with a house elf dispute in a pureblood household in Kent. Since, the first elf was freed, other house elves had come forward. Some were looking to be freed from their families, others were just looking for improved working conditions. Hermione had found herself playing the role of mediator more often than emancipator. She would have preferred it the other way around, but Purdy assured her that it was important to let the elves choose their fates. Hermione deferred to her wisdom and worked to make elves' lives better where she could. It wasn't easy, given her blood status. Although, Voldemort was gone, old prejudices remained. It was an uphill battle for both House Elves and Muggleborns, but at least the law was now on their side.

xXx

She was tired when she Apparated to Diagon Alley. It was a crisp fall day though, and she took a deep breath of fresh air and felt a bit better as she started walking toward the Leaky Cauldron. When she stepped through to the Muggle side, Terry was wiping down the counter as usual. She couldn't help wondering why he did that so much since it was clear no one sat at the bar very often.

"Good evening, Hermione. Need to call your mum?"

"Not today, Terry." She looked at the corner where the homeless man slept. "How's our friend doing?"

"Same as always. You still got plenty left on your two galleons. He's enjoyed his meals, but he only ever wants soup, so your money goes far."

"Do you know any more about him?"

Terry shook his head. "No. Don't say much, that one."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked over at the man. "I'd like to talk to him, but I hate to wake him."

Terry looked at his watch. "Eh, he'll be getting up here soon anyway. He always leaves by seven."

"To go where?"

"No idea, pet. Hey, mate," he called to the man in the corner. "Wake up. Your benefactor is here. Come and say thanks."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Terry. He doesn't need to—"

"He wanted to know. Might as well meet you."

The man lifted his head, wiped his face with his hand and got to his feet and shuffled over." He wasn't very tall, only a couple of inches taller than Hermione, although he was stoop-shouldered, so he might be taller than he seemed. He had shoulder length gray hair and a full beard.

Hermione held out her hand. "Hello."

The man looked at her hand and then down at his. "My hand is dirty."

"Doesn't matter."

He just looked at her. She dropped her hand and looked at him. He had the same clear green eyes as her grandmother and her Aunt Hestia. She decided to just ask. "Are you by chance, Landen Wright?"

The old man's eyes widened. "Yes. How could you—?"

"I'm your granddaughter," she said bluntly. "Hermione Granger. Honoria Wright is my grandmother."


	9. Fathers and Grandfathers

Terry and Landen both stared at her with their mouths open. Landen shook his head. "Can't be."

"Yes. My Auntie Hestia gave your daughter to my grandmother Honoria to raise as a Muggle. My mum married another Squib, and they had me."

The old man stumbled back and sat down hard on a chair at one of the small tables. He shook his head again.

Hermione sat down opposite him and waited. She had a million questions, but she'd learned over the years, it was better to wait rather than to ask them all at once. Finally, the old man looked at her. "How did you—?"

"I didn't. It was just a guess, because magic being what it is, I thought it was worth asking, besides you have very distinctive eyes."

He nodded. "The Wrights are known for their green eyes."

"Why have you been coming in here every day?"

He ran his thumb along a groove in the table. "I haven't been feeling well. Muggle doctors aren't much use to the likes of us."

"You need to go to St. Mungo's?"

He shrugged. "Maybe just to an apothecary."

"Then come through." Hermione stood.

He shook his head. "It's been too long."

"Nonsense." She held out her hand.

He looked at her. "What would you know of it?"

She sat back down. "I know Honoria and Hestia were at my house recently talking about how they'd looked for you. How you must have cast an obfuscation spell, because location spells couldn't find you. Your family misses you."

"I was weak. No one misses me."

"Weak?"

He stared at his hands. "I just dumped her off on Hestia and ran away."

"But Mum has had a good life. She's happily married. She's had a good career as a dentist. She and dad have their own practice. Actually, they own two and they're innovators in their field. They've written textbooks. They have me and they're good parents, the best. So, she hasn't suffered by your actions." Hermione knew that was entirely true, but she didn't think saying so would help her cause.

"It's too late. It's been too long."

"No, it hasn't. Come through, at least to see a healer."

"I don't know."

"It's okay. You're with me. No one will bother you."

He looked at her askance.

"Trust me."

After a long appraising look, he nodded. Hermione stood and held open the door into the magical side of the pub. He stepped through and she followed.

Ron was sitting at the bar chatting with Hannah and Neville. She nodded at him, and he smiled and walked over to them. "Hello."

Hermione gestured to the old man. "Ron, this is Landen Wright, my grandfather. Landen, this is Ron Weasley, my husband."

Landen looked up at Ron. "Aren't you two mighty young to be married?"

Ron grinned at him. "We get that a lot."

"We're on our way to St. Mungo's."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "What's wrong?"

"Landen's not feeling well."

"I probably just need an apothecary," Landen said.

"How long has it been since you've seen a healer?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure," Landen said.

"Then we're going to St. Mungo's," Hermione said firmly.

"But—" Landen said.

"Best not to argue, mate," Ron said. "She'll have her way in the end anyway. Make it easy on yourself and just go along."

The old man sighed and followed them to the fireplace to take the Floo.

xXx

When they stepped out of the fireplace into the lobby of St. Mungo's, Hermione went to talk to the Welcome Witch while Ron got Landen settled in the waiting area. It wasn't too crowded. There was woman with a tentacle for an arm and a man with two heads waiting. The heads were arguing in what sounded like gibberish.

Landen looked at them and smiled. "It's good to be home," he said to Ron.

Hermione returned. "They'll call you in a few minutes," she said to Landen.

He nodded and continued looking around. Hermione smiled awkwardly at Ron. "So how was your day?"

"Okay. I spent the morning training new cadets, but now they're on field exercises, so I have the rest of the day off. I tried adding my name to your account at Gringotts, but they said you had to come in person and sign the paperwork."

Hermione frowned. "Of course. I should have thought of that."

Ron shrugged. "They said it's just a form. Maybe we could do that when we're done here."

"Maybe."

The Welcome Witch called the lady with the tentacle and then Landen.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Hermione asked.

"No, luv, I'm fine." Landen shuffled toward the elf that came to collect him.

Hermione watched him go and then turned to Ron. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course. You know I hate to miss it when I'm right."

She chuckled. "Naturally."

He put his arm around her and she leaned against him. "It'll be fine," he assured her.

Twenty minutes later, a healer came into the waiting area. "Wright family," she called.

At first it didn't register with Hermione that the healer meant her, but when he asked again, she realized and stood. "Here."

The healer came over. "You're with Landen Wright?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm his granddaughter."

The healer narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you Hermione Granger?"

"Yes."

The healer frowned. "Your grandfather has Henkle Witz syndrome."

Hermione looked at Ron, but he clearly had never heard of it either. "I'm sorry. I don't know what that is."

"It's a condition magical people can develop when they've been too long disconnected from the magical world. It's fairly rare." He frowned. "And easily avoided. Why someone of your stature would—"

"Hang on," Ron said. "Could you hold off on condemning her. She only just met him today."

The healer made a sour face. "Fine. Anyway, he needs rest and immersion in the magical world. If he's not better in a week, we should talk about doing a magic restoration circle. His magic is very depleted."

"All right," Hermione said. She looked at Ron. "Perhaps he can stay with us for a while?"

"Fine by me," Ron said.

"Do you live in a magical community?" the healer asked.

"We live in London," Hermione said.

"In Diagon Alley?"

"No," Ron said. "Near Hampstead Heath."

"That won't do," the healer said. "He needs immersion. You should put him up at the Leaky Cauldron or another magical inn if you don't have family that lives in a magical village."

"Okay," Hermione said.

"For how long?" Ron asked.

"It depends on how quickly he recovers," the healer said.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who grimaced.

"The house elves are getting him cleaned up and mending his clothes now. He'll be out in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

When the healer left, Ron said, "Bloody hell, how long are we going to have to pay to keep him at an inn?"

"I'm not sure. I can cover it for a while. It's not as though we have a mortgage."

"No, but that's going to add up pretty quick."

"I know. Perhaps Mum and Dad can help."

"So, you're going to tell your Mum straight away then?"

"Well, I don't know," Hermione said worriedly. "What do you think?"

"I think maybe you tell Madam Scrivenshaft first."

Hermione nodded. "You're right. And we'll put him up at the Three Broomsticks. It's cheaper than the Leaky Cauldron, and he'll be less likely to slip back into Muggle London."

"And maybe Madam Scrivenshaft can check on him."

"Maybe. Hestia did seem legitimately concerned about him."

"All right then, but let's take care of Gringotts while we're down this way."

"Sure," Hermione said. "I'll need galleons to pay for the room anyway."

"Right." He looked over her head. "Oh, hey."

Hermione turned around. Walking toward them was a transformed Landen Wright. Although he was still pale and stooped, his clothes were clean and repaired. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and he appeared freshly showered.

"Wow," Ron said.

Landen shuffled over to them. "I'm sorry you had to wait. It seems I've brought this on myself."

"That's okay," Hermione said. "Do you mind if we stop by Gringotts before we get you settled."

"I need to go anyway. I'll have to get money out to pay for the inn."

"You have money in Gringotts?" Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

He looked at them. "I should. There was gold in the account when I left."

Hermione glanced at Ron "Let's go then."

xXx

They walked down the street to Gringotts. Ron held open both sets of doors, and they all stepped inside. There wasn't an open teller window, so they had to stand in line with a few other people waiting their turn. Next to them was the statue of them with Harry and Griphook. Ron and Hermione both deliberately didn't look at the statue while they tried to look inconspicuous. Landen on the other hand hadn't seen the statue, so he was quite curious about the addition to the bank.

"Hang on," he said. "Is that you two?"

Ron and Hermione both blushed as the other people in line ahead of them turned to look.

"Could you keep it down, mate," Ron said quietly out of the side of his mouth, but it was too late. People were already coming over to shake their hands. One of the people in line was a photographer for the Daily Prophet. Photos were taken. Finally, the goblins thought to open additional windows and the crowd dispersed. Hermione signed the paperwork to add Ron to her account while Landen got out money for himself. When they were done, they took the Floo to the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta was handing a mug of ale to a customer when the three of them stepped out of the fireplace.

"As I live and breathe," she said, holding a hand over her heart. "Is that Landen Wright?"

"Rosmerta," Landen said. The two embraced.

"My stars, man," Rosmerta said. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there," Landen said. "But I'd like to stay here for a while if you have room."

"Of course, I have room." Rosmerta looked at Ron and Hermione as though she just realized they were there. "Hullo. Haven't seen you two around here in a while. Wait, are you with him?"

"She's my granddaughter," Landen said proudly. "There's a statue of her in Gringotts. Did you know that?"

"Of course, I did, luv. Everyone knows that." She looked at Hermione. "His granddaughter?"

Hermione nodded.

"So, you know then?" Rosmerta said.

Hermione frowned. "Apparently, I'm the last to know."

Rosmerta shook her head. "That's not true. I only know because Hestia and I are friends." She pointed a thumb at Landen. "I used to be friends with this lout, before he took up with that Muggle and left us all broken-hearted."

Landen scoffed. "No one was broken-hearted."

"Well, let's get you settled then, pet," Rosmerta said.

Landen turned to Hermione and Ron. "Thank you so much for all your help."

Hermione nodded. "You'll be okay here, then?"

"I think so," he said. He looked around with tears in his eyes. "It's been so long, but this feels right. I already feel better."

"Good," Hermione said awkwardly. She wasn't sure if she should hug him or shake his hand or what. "I'll check on you tomorrow."

"Thank you," he said. "I'll see you then." He followed Madam Rosmerta to the stairs leading to the rooms above the pub.

"Are you ready to head home?" Ron asked.

"I think I better go over to Scrivenshaft's first."

"Right. Come on then."

They went out of the pub and down the street to her great aunt's shop. It was already closed, but Hermione led Ron through a side gate where she knocked on the back door.

Ernest Scrivenshaft opened it. "Hermione?"

"Hello, is Auntie Hestia home?"

"Yes, come through. Have a seat."

Ron and Hermione sat at the kitchen table. A couple of minutes later, Hestia came in followed by her husband. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hermione assured her. "But something has happened."

Hestia and Ernest took seats at the table. "Tell me."

Hermione explained about Landen Wright. When she was done Hestia and Ernest looked stunned.

"Good heavens," Ernest said.

Hestia shook her head. "I wish you'd come to me before you approached him."

"I wasn't even sure it was him. It seemed wildly coincidental," Hermione said.

Hestia frowned at her. "But that's magic, isn't it?"

"That's what I said," Ron said.

Hermione sighed. "Well, he's here now and it's a good thing given that he's ill."

"True enough," Hestia said. "Have you told your mother?"

"No. I would've done, but when Madam Rosmerta said you and her were friends, and that she knew I was your great niece all along, I figured I better tell you before she did, so we came straight here."

"Right you were," Ernest said. "I love Rosmerta but she would have run straight over here. We'll likely see her in a little while."

Hestia frowned at him. "She's a good friend. It's not like she's a blabbermouth. She kept it to herself who Hermione really was all these years."

"True enough," Ernest said. "But you two are thick as thieves. You know we'll see her tonight."

Hestia nodded. "Well, thank you for telling me. I'll go and see him in the morning. Are you going to tell Honoria and Monica tonight?"

Hermione sighed. She was exhausted. "I suppose I should."

"It can't wait until morning?" Ron asked.

"I have meetings all day tomorrow and Mum has work. I'll go tonight and get it over with."

xXx

A half an hour later, Hermione was standing in front of the door to her parents' condo. Ron had offered to go with her, but she'd felt like it would be easier if she went alone. She wasn't sure how her mother was going to handle the news, and it seemed rude to bring Ron into a potentially upsetting situation. She blew out a calming breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked on the door. Her parents' Yorkshire terriers immediately started barking and a moment later, her father opened the door, carrying Cleo.

"Hullo," he said. "What brings you out at this hour?"

"Hi, Dad," Hermione said coming inside. "I'm sorry to come out so late, but there's been a development in the family situation with Mum, and I felt like she should know sooner rather than later."

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Her father set down Cleo, who immediately started sniffing Hermione's shoes. "What sort of development?"

"It's best if I tell you both at the same time. It's kind of complicated, and I don't want to have to go through it twice."

Her father frowned. "Would it be possible for you to stop opening cans of worms and leaving them all over our life?"

Hermione felt awful. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know this has been hard. I swear I had no idea it—"

He shook his head. "Don't. I know it's not your fault. The truth outs eventually. That's just the way of the world." He sighed. "Come on, your Mum is in the parlor."

"Wen?" her mother called from the parlor. "What was that about?"

"It's Hermione," her father called back.

They stepped into the parlor to find her mother curled up on the sofa with Calli in her lap.

"I can see Calli is quite the guard dog," Hermione teased.

"She thought Cleo had it covered." Her mother smiled at the little dog in her lap. A show was paused on the TV screen. "What brings you out?"

"Well," Hermione said, taking the wing chair closest to her mother. She tried to quell the anxiety forming in her stomach. "I…" She looked anxiously at her father. Both of her parents looked at her expectantly.

She decided it was best just to say it. "Your father, Landen Wright, turns out to be neither dead nor missing."

Her mother's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "What?"

"I mean he was missing for a while, but now he's not."

"You found my father?"

"Actually, he sort of found me."

"I don't understand," her father said.

"Me either," her mother said.

Hermione started at the beginning with the old man in the Muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron and told the whole sequence of events through taking him to the Three Broomsticks and telling Hestia.

Her mother sat with her mouth open, clearly stunned. Calli licked her hand and Cleo jumped on the sofa and leaned against her. Both dogs clearly sensed her distress.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I know this is a lot on top of what has already been a very stressful few weeks, but once I knew who he was, I couldn't keep the information to myself."

"No, of course not," her mother said. "I'm glad you told me. I just don't know how to feel about it."

"That's understandable," Hermione said.

"Absolutely," her father said. "Take your time. It's not like any of this needs to be handled tonight."

"No," Hermione said. "In fact, given that he's ill, we don't want to overwhelm him. Hestia said she would talk to him tomorrow."

Her mother nodded. "Did he say anything about me?"

"Only that he was weak for giving you to Hestia to deal with and then running away. He seems filled with regret in that regard. To be honest, I don't think he gave you away because you were a Squib. I think he gave you away because his wife died, and he couldn't handle it and didn't feel like he could take care of you."

"That is pretty weak," her father said.

"Dad!" Hermione was shocked at his lack of compassion.

He frowned. "I'm serious. Do you honestly think, if your mum had died, that I would've just dumped you off on some relative?"

"No, of course not, but—"

"But nothing, he should be ashamed."

Her mother put her hand on his knee. "I'm okay, Wen."

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I don't like seeing you so upset. This is a lot to take in."

Her mother nodded. "It is, but he is family. To be honest, that's been the hardest part of all this to wrap my head around. My whole life I thought I was adopted by strangers, when in fact, my adopted mother was my cousin. How bizarre is that? I'm so…angry, I guess, that she didn't tell me. I mean, I've been angry at her for years over the way she treated you, Mi, but now, knowing all this…I don't know. I can't decide if I feel sorry for her or if I'm even angrier than I was before. It's just so much to process and now my biological father has shown up. What are the odds of that?"

Hermione grimaced. "I'm afraid that may be my fault."

Her parents both looked at her with confused expressions.

"Ron thinks magic flows toward me, sort of favors me, so when I started down this path, well things just magically went my way."

Her mother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose while her father ran a hand down his face.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea all of this would come to light."

"Don't be sorry," her mother said. "None of this is your fault even if magic does go your way. There are layers of lies and abandonment and cover ups that have nothing to do with you, so it's not your place to feel bad about it or to fix it. I need to stop wallowing around in self-pity and resume my role as an adult. You don't need to keep acting as a go between."

"How are you going to talk with anyone if I don't?"

"Well, first I'm going to talk to your grandmother. I don't need your help with that. After we talk, I'll let you know where we stand. I might ask for Purdy's help to get me around where I need to go."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to help you, but I can take you where you need to go Mum."

"I know that, but you shouldn't have to. I can handle my own affairs. I'll deal with my father."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Part of her didn't want to be sidelined, but part of her was really happy to see her mother reassert herself. The last few weeks had been very disconcerting. "All right then. Well, if you need me in anyway, you know I'm happy to help."

"I know that, darling. But I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me."

Hermione and her father exchanged a worried glance.

"Seriously," her mother said. "I'm fine. I know I've been a bit of a mess this last month, but that's over."

"If you say so," Hermione said.

"I do." Her mother patted her knee. "Now you get home. I'm sure Ron's sick of you coming over here every night."

"Ron's fine. He understands the need to take care of family. On the other hand, it would be nice to get back. I'm knackered."

"Go," her mother said. "I'll talk to you soon."

"All right, I'll ask Purdy if she'd be willing to help you."

"Thanks, I appreciate that."

Hermione nodded and pulled her wand. "Goodnight then." Both of her parents hugged her, and then she Disapparated.

xXx

Ron woke that night from a sound sleep because the wind was howling outside. The storm reminded him of storms they'd endured in the tent. Once he started thinking about that, he couldn't go back to sleep. A few minutes later, Hermione sat bolt upright in bed.

"You okay?"

Wide-eyed, she looked over her shoulder at him. "Yeah. Why are you awake?"

"The wind woke me. We're having a pretty bad storm out there."

"That explains it then."

"Explains what?"

"I had a nightmare. We were back in the tent and a storm was raging outside. We were low on food and so tired it was hard to cast the spells to reinforce it."

Ron nodded. "I was just thinking about that."

She lay back down and snuggled against him. "I'm glad we don't have to do that anymore."

"Me too. Living in a house is way better than living in a tent."

"Having our own room is nice too."

"That is nice."

She sighed contentedly. "When we sat up all night in that storm making sure the tent didn't collapse…"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted you to hold me just like this."

Ron smiled. "Yeah?"

"Definitely. I remember because Harry was sitting in the chair and I was on one end of the sofa and you were on the other, and I kept thinking you were just two feet away. Twenty-four inches and I could touch you. I really wanted to touch you."

Ron nodded. "That was a mutual feeling."

She rose on one elbow and looked at him. "I'm glad we don't do that anymore."

"But Hermione, I still want to touch you," he teased.

"Good," she said and crawled on top of him for a kiss.

He enthusiastically kissed her back and thought again how happy he was to be out of that damn tent.

xXx

A little while later, Hermione lay contentedly sleeping beside him, but Ron was still awake. The wind continued to howl outside. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe and went downstairs for a glass of water and to check on Harry. Just as he'd thought, Harry was sitting at the kitchen table.

"What are you drinking?" Ron asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Harry looked up. "Warm milk with sugar and vanilla. You can't sleep either?"

Ron scratched his head. "Nah. Stupid wind is keeping me awake."

"Me too. I'm surprised Hermione isn't up."

"She was, but she fell back asleep."

"Lucky her." Harry took a sip of his milk.

Warm milk didn't sound appealing to Ron, but he thought some chamomile tea might help sooth his nerves. A cup appeared before him. "Thanks Purdy."

"I had a dream we were back in the tent during that terrible storm in Scotland. Remember that?"

Ron chuckled and sat down across from him. "We were just talking about that a little while ago. We both had the same dream."

Harry shook his head. "That storm was awful. I was sure the tent was going to collapse because the spells we were casting to reinforce it were so weak."

Ron shrugged. "But we survived. And now look where we are."

Harry nodded. "Who'd have thought?"

"Not me. I still wake up every morning surprised and delighted. Sometimes, I look over and see Hermione sleeping next to me, and I get the giggles. I mean really. I just can't believe it." He shook his head, grinning. "She's my wife."

Harry grinned back at him. "I know."

"Crazy, right?"

Harry shrugged. "Inevitable more like."

"Nah." Ron reconsidered. "Well, maybe."

"How's she doing with all the family stuff?"

"About as good as can be expected, I guess." Ron took a sip of his tea. "At least it looks like her mum has pulled herself together. I hope that means that Hermione won't have to be in the middle of everything. It would be nice if her mum and her grandparents could work out their own mess."

Harry nodded. "That would be nice." He yawned. "We should probably head up. We've got work tomorrow."

Ron nodded. "About that, you're sure you're all right with tomorrow being my last day?"

"Of course, I already planned the party."

Ron grinned. "All right. If you're sure."

"It's high time you get to do what you want instead of always looking after me, don't you think?"

Ron scratched at his jaw. "It just feels so weird to be leaving you there."

"I know," Harry admitted. "But it's not like we'll never see each other. I'm such a baby, the minute Ginny leaves, I'm over here."

"You're not a baby. Besides, we like having you here."

"And I appreciate that. But you don't have to worry about me at work. We've trained a good group, in no small part due to you, and the old guys are solid. I've got a strong team with me."

"That's my worry."

Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You think of them as the team. You don't make yourself part of it. I worry you'll take risks and go off on your own. You can't do that, Harry."

"I won't. I just said it wrong. We're all one big team. Don't worry about it. Go work with George. He needs you now. Besides, I know you love it."

Ron chuckled. "I do. I didn't think I'd enjoy it this much, but making up joke products is every bit as fun as it sounds."

"Good. You deserve to have fun."

"And you don't? Why are you stuck hunting monsters?"

Harry blew out a slow breath. "I'll tell you a secret."

Ron leaned forward.

"I love my job. Hunting monsters is my favorite thing to do. Well, he amended, at least when it comes to work. Seriously, I like being an Auror, really like it. I'm happy hunting monsters. You're happy working with George. It's all good."

Ron turned his teacup in his hands. "You know, Hermione is moving in your direction."

"I know, but she's not interested in field work. She can do it, obviously, but she doesn't want to be an Auror."

"I know," Ron said. "But I reckon she can at least keep an eye on you in the office. See you don't go all lone wolf."

Harry smiled. "I expect one of you will always have an eye on me. I think that's just our lot in life, don't you?"

Ron chuckled. "I reckon."

"I'm going to go up. The wind has died down enough I think I can sleep."

"I'll head up as soon as I finish this," Ron said, holding up his teacup.

"Goodnight then."

A few minutes later, Ron set his teacup in the sink and went upstairs. Hermione was sound asleep and he watched her sleeping from the doorway for a minute before taking off his bathrobe and climbing in next to her. Inevitable or not, he felt damn lucky.


	10. Unexpected Outcomes

Two days later, the three of them were at the Leaky Cauldron for Ron's going away party. The other Auror's were there along with Hermione and Neville, who had worked with them right after the war. Ginny was coming later after practice. Harry was very excited because she'd be home for the next two weeks and he'd taken some time off. Recently, he'd arranged his schedule so that he worked every day while she was gone so he could be off the entire time she was home. Harry leaned against the bar and ordered three more ales from Hannah Abbott. As she was pulling them from the tap, she looked over toward Ron, whose arm was wrapped around Hermione and they were both laughing at something Taylor, one of the other Aurors, had said.

"He's in good spirits," Hannah said to Harry.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I think he was ready to go a long time ago, but he stayed for me and to get other people trained."

Hannah smiled at him as she set a glass of ale on the bar. "That's a good friend."

"The best. I'm going to miss him at work, but I'm glad he's doing this. He really loves working with George and he's good at it. Have you seen the new joke wand?"

"The one that turns into a miniature tree if you get it even the slightest bit wet? I saw it the other day. Hilarious. Not to mention those mini-trees are really pretty. I was thinking of getting one with the same wood my wand is made of just to get the tree."

"Right?" Harry said. "You're not the only one. They're selling like hot cakes. They were Ron's idea, and he did the lion's share of the charm work too."

"That's great." Hannah set the third ale on the bar.

Harry picked up the three glasses, sloshing a bit of ale. "I should get back to it."

Hannah wiped the counter. "Righto."

Harry delivered the ale to Ron and Hermione. Ginny arrived a few minutes later and Harry was so happy to see her he picked her up and swung her around. She laughed. "I'm happy to see you too." She hugged Hermione and Ron.

"Congratulations on beating Puddlemere United. Great match that was," Ron said.

"Thanks," Ginny said. "Things did go our way."

"I'll get you a drink." Harry hurried off to the bar. As he was coming back, he noticed Madam Rosmerta come in with an older gentleman. It struck him as odd that Rosmerta would be at the Leaky Cauldron when she owned the Three Broomsticks. When he got back to the others, he handed Ginny her drink and slipped his arm around her waist. He was so happy she was back that even the trip to the bar seemed like too long of a separation. "Hey, did you notice Madam Rosmerta just came in with an old bloke? What's that about do you think?"

Hermione was talking to Neville and Brown, another Auror, so she didn't hear him, but Ron looked around. Sure enough, Madam Rosmerta was tucked into a corner table with Hermione's grandfather. They were holding hands across the table. Ron snorted. "He moves fast."

"What?" Harry said.

"That's Hermione's grandfather she's with."

Hearing her name Hermione turned around. "What?"

"Your grandad appears to be taking Madam Rosmerta for a night on the town," Ron said cheerily.

"What?" Hermione said looking around.

Ron nudged her in the right direction. Her mouth dropped open. "I guess he's feeling better."

"I guess he is," Ron said, smirking.

"That was fast, don't you think?" Hermione said, her brow wrinkling with concern.

Ron shrugged. "What's it been? A few days? He's right on schedule. That's about all you can go without sex."

Her mouth dropped open and she swatted his arm. "Ron!" He gave her a pointed look and she shrugged. "Oh, do shut up." Harry and Ginny laughed.

"Should I go over there? I don't want to interrupt their date, but it seems weird not to say something."

"Let it go," Ron said. "If he walks over this way, you can say something. Otherwise, I'd leave them be. They seem pretty busy."

Hermione looked over to see her grandfather kiss Rosmerta's hand. "Oh, good grief."

"Come on," Ron said. "Good for them."

"Isn't he kind of old for her?" Harry asked.

"Mum says Madam Rosmerta uses so many glamour charms no one knows how old she actually is," Ginny said. "He might be too young for her, for all we know."

Ron laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Rumor has it," Ginny continued. "That she does a tidy business on the side doing exceptional glamour charms for other witches and wizards. It's all very discrete of course."

"Of course," Harry said, grinning.

"I'm going to the loo," Hermione said.

"I'll go with you," Ginny said.

Harry looked at Ron. "Why do birds always go together?"

Ron shrugged. "Power of suggestion?"

Harry laughed.

xXx

When Hermione and Ginny emerged from the ladies' room a few minutes later, Ginny ran into Hermione who had stopped suddenly and made a kind of irritated growl at the back of her throat.

"What?" Ginny said.

"Look at Padma over there flirting with Ron. She certainly has changed her opinion of him, and she knows we're married."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "They're just talking."

"If they're just talking why does she keep flipping her hair like that?"

Ginny sighed. "As someone with long straight hair, I can tell you it slides forward and you have to push it back. It doesn't mean anything."

Hermione frowned at her. "You know they went to the Yule Ball together."

Ginny snorted. "For goodness sake, Hermione, he was fourteen. He didn't even ask her. Harry asked Parvati if she and Padma would go with him and Ron."

"Well, she still went," Hermione said.

"And left with someone else," Ginny said.

"Exactly, so why is she chatting him up now?"

"She's not. Since when are you jealous anyway?"

"I'm not," Hermione huffed.

Ginny arched an eyebrow at her.

"It's just, since the war, women are always coming on to him."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, please! I'm engaged to Harry Potter. Men, women, all manner of magical creatures, even ghosts are always surrounding him."

Hermione smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. It's fine. I'm just having a bucked teeth and bushy hair day."

"What?"

"It's nothing. I'm just feeling insecure. It's been a rough month."

"With Ron?" Ginny's forehead wrinkled with concern.

"No. He's been great actually. All this family stuff is making me crazy and when I get frazzled, I get insecure."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, but thanks. There isn't even really much I can do, which is a lot of the problem. I just need to let it go."

Ginny cocked her head sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." Hermione sighed and they walked back out to rejoin Ron and Harry. Padma had been joined by her sister and some of the Aurors and they were all chatting and laughing with Ron and Harry. Hermione slipped in next to Ron. He put his arm around her and drew her closer without skipping a beat in a story he was telling Neville. Ginny joined Harry and they all had another round of ale.

xXx

Later that night, as Ron and Hermione were getting ready for bed, Ron said, "Tonight was really great, don't you think?"

"It was. The other Aurors really respect you. I think you're going to be sorely missed."

"Bah," Ron said, blowing off the compliment, but she could tell he was pleased.

"And several people mentioned to me how cool those trick wands of yours are."

He grinned. "Really?"

"Really."

"Well," he said modestly. "They do seem to be selling well. Great night though, really great night."

She smiled at him. It had been a great night. She just wished her grandfather hadn't shown up with Madam Rosmerta. Their appearance had tainted the evening, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly why."

"Hey," Ron said, as he got into bed.

She looked up. "What?"

"Are you going to take that off or put it back on or what?"

She realized she had her shirt partially off and had clearly been standing there for a few moments. "Oh, right, sorry." She finished getting undressed and climbed into bed with him. She snuggled against him and he wrapped an arm around her.

"You all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"You were a million miles away a second ago."

"I was just thinking about family stuff. I don't know how you manage it."

"What do you mean?"

She smoothed the sheet. "I don't know. It used to be just me and Mum and Dad but now there are all these other people involved."

He chuckled. "Hermione, having one grandmother, one grandfather, one great aunt and one great uncle doesn't count as 'all these other people.' With you and your parents that's still just seven people. You haven't even reached the number in my immediate family yet."

She rolled over on her side and looked at him. "I know. That's why I said I don't know how you handle it. I'm so sick of worrying about family stuff. I've got house elf work to do and all the Wizengamot work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, not to mention trying to put together some kind of program to help Muggleborns and Squibs. I don't have time to fret about who my grandfather might be dating."

Ron bit back a smile. "So, don't fret about it. Everyone in your family is an adult. Let them work it out."

"I am, but now I find myself worrying about what Mum will think about her father dating."

"Why would she care?"

"I don't know. Maybe she wouldn't, but I can't help wondering, and I'm sick of it. I don't have time to think about all that. I feel completely out of sorts."

Ron let out a choked laugh.

She frowned at him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He put a hand over his mouth.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. You just get so wound up about everything."

She scowled at him. "I do not, but this important."

"That's the problem though, isn't it? Everything is important to you." She got out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown, and Ron knew he'd crossed the line into actually pissing her off.

"So, you don't think your family is important?"

"Of course, I do." He kept his voice calm trying to diffuse the situation. "But I don't panic over every little issue."

"I'm not panicked. I'm concerned. I'm allowed to be concerned. I only just got my parents back a few months ago and my gran is speaking to me for the first time in years. I don't think it's trivial that I'm worried about losing that again."

"Hey." Ron got out of bed and pulled on his own robe. "You're not going to lose anything."

"That's easy for you to say." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Your family comes together in a crisis. Mine has a tendency to fall apart."

"Come on," He went over to her side of the bed and put his hands on her shoulders. "That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that." Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "Landen is a wildcard. Mum has been so upset. Gran is still upset. It's distinctly likely that one or both of them will decide this is too much, and they'll go back to not speaking."

"Your mum is not going to stop speaking to you," Ron said soothingly.

Hermione shook her head. "I started all this. I took their memories—"

"Which you restored."

"But I took them and then I introduced all these new people. I should have just kept this to myself."

Ron shook his head. "You know that's not true. You had to tell them. It would've been wrong not to."

"Why did I ever go to Muriel in the first place? I should have just minded my own business." Hermione was wringing her hands.

Ron put his hands over hers. "Asking about family is minding your business. All of this is your business, profoundly yours. You have to relax. I know this is very emotional for all of you right now, but things will settle down. Just give it time."

"But what if it doesn't?"

Ron sighed. "Then it doesn't and you move on. You're part of my family now. You've got more than enough relatives through me, and I promise they all love you and will be perfectly happy to stick their noses in our business and otherwise make nuisances of themselves."

She gave him a slight smile.

He squeezed her hands.

She looked away from him and said in small voice. "I don't want to lose mine though."

He put his arms around her and held her close. "I know."

She clung to him for a minute before saying, "Let's go to bed. I'm supposed to go to the Burrow in the morning before work to talk to your mother about teaching the Muggleborns at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded. "I bet she says yes."

"I hope so."

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "To bed with you."


	11. Practical Magic

**Practical Magic**

Early the next morning, Hermione was walking up the garden path to the back door of the Burrow. Every time she approached the house her mind was flooded with memories of staying there. She knocked on the door and Molly called for her to come in. She was bringing a pot of tea to the table where there were already fresh scones waiting. "Good morning," Hermione said.

"Hello dear," Molly took seat at the table. "You just missed Arthur. He went in early to prep for a meeting. Now that he runs the meetings, he likes to be in first thing to make sure they go smoothly."

"I can understand that," Hermione said.

"So, what can I do for you?" Molly took a scone and split it before spreading clotted cream on both sides followed by jam. "I assume you didn't come out so early on a work day just for my scones."

Hermione was spreading jam on her own scone. "Actually, I would come out just for one of these, but you're right, I have an ulterior motive today."

Molly smiled. "And you're a jam first person." She shook her head. "I'll never understand that."

"That's how everyone does it in London." Hermione dropped a dollop of clotted cream on top of the jam and took a bit. She closed her eyes and savored it for a moment. "I don't know if Ron's mentioned what's going on with my family…"

"Ron hasn't, but I ran into Hestia the other day and she mentioned it."

Hermione nodded. Of course, Molly already knew about it. She'd expected that. The magical community was so small, it was impossible to keep secrets, and news that wasn't meant to be secret moved almost as fast. "Right. Well, in dealing with all this, the reality of the plight of Squibs and Muggleborns really hit me. Not that I didn't already know how difficult it was to come into this world as a Muggleborn, but I was lucky enough to become friends with Ron and to spend so much time here."

Molly smiled warmly. "And we were lucky to have you."

"You helped me so much, I was wondering if you would consider helping others."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I was talking to Professor McGonagall and suggested Hogwarts should offer an elective class for Muggleborns to learn domestic magic, the kind of stuff the other students learn at home. She thought it was a good idea, but the school is still recovering from the battle and she didn't feel like she could ask any of the professors to take that on given that they're already stretched thin. She said if I could find someone from outside that would be willing to teach, she'd be willing to give them space to work."

Molly set down her teacup. "And you want me to do it?"

"I don't know anyone better at domestic spells than you, and I know you teach really well because you taught me, not to mention your own children."

"I suppose that's true." Molly sat back in her chair and pondered the idea while Hermione continued eating her scone. "I have to say since Ginny moved into Grimmauld Place, I don't have nearly as much to worry about around here. How often would I need to go up to Hogwarts?"

"Probably not more than once a week. Obviously, we'd have to talk to McGonagall, but given the course load at Hogwarts, I can't see students having time for more than a once a week enrichment class.

Molly nodded. "Let me think about it, and I'll send a note to Minerva. Would you be willing to help me come up with a curriculum?"

Hermione smiled. "Absolutely."

Molly nodded. "Okay then. I'll let you know what Minerva says."

"Fantastic." Hermione finished her tea and stood. "I need to get to work. Do you mind if I take some scones for Ron and Harry?"

"Of course, dear, take all you like."

Hermione took four scones and wrapped them in napkins. "I look forward to hearing from you."

Molly nodded. "I'll see you later."

xXx

Hermione hurried out past the protective wards and Disapparated to Diagon Alley at the rear entrance to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She knocked on the door. A face appeared in the door and blinked at her. "You're not the delivery."

"No," Hermione said to the door. "I'm Ron's wife. Could you let me in, please?"

"One moment." The face disappeared and she could hear it hollering on the other side that Ron's wife was there. A moment later, Ron opened the door and stepped into the alley. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine. I brought you some of your mum's scones. There are two so you can share one with George if you like. She handed him a couple of the wrapped scones."

"As if," he said. "Thanks."

She stood up on her tiptoes, and he leaned down, so she could kiss him. "Have a great day."

"I will, you too."

xXx

"Thanks." She Disapparated to the Ministry and went to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to the Office of House-Elf Relocation where Purdy was waiting for her.

"Any issues this morning?" Hermione asked.

"No, Miss," Purdy said.

"All right then." Hermione set one of the remaining scones on her desk. "I'm going to run this other scone up to Harry. "When I get back, we'll finish up the paperwork on Tempy."

"Yes, Miss."

Hermione went back out to the bank of elevators and took one to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She walked down to the Auror Division where she found Taylor and Brown tossing jinxes at each other. They stopped when she came in.

"Hermione," Taylor called. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I just need to drop this off for Harry. Is he around?"

"He went to the head," Brown said. "Should be back in a tick."

"Have you recovered from last night's festivities?" Taylor asked.

"Oh, I didn't drink that much," Hermione said. "I was fine this morning."

"Hey," Harry said, coming into the room. "What brings you up here?"

Hermione handed him the wrapped scone. "I saw Molly early this morning. I brought you a scone."

His face lit up. "You really are my best mate."

Hermione laughed. "Of course, but I've got to get back to work."

"I'll see you later." He was already unwrapping the scone.

xXx

Two days later, the Weasley's new owl, Edine, arrived with a note from Molly asking Hermione to come over Saturday to help craft a curriculum for the Domestic Magic for Muggleborns class. She went into the parlor where Ron was playing chess with Harry while Ginny lounged on one of the sofas reading _Witch Weekly_. She and Harry had come over for dinner.

Ron looked up when she came into the room. "What's got you grinning?"

"Your mum agreed to teach the class and Professor McGonagall has added it to the curriculum."

"What class?" Ginny sat up and tossed the magazine on the coffee table.

Hermione explained about the class for Muggleborns.

"That's a good idea," Ginny said. "Why has no one thought to do that before?"

Hermione shrugged. "Prejudice would be my guess."

"Ah," Ginny said. "Right."

"Now we just need to do something for the Squibs."

"Really?" Ginny said. "I wasn't gone that long, but I feel like a lot happened."

Ron chuckled. "Doesn't it always?"

"Yeah. But this seems like a lot even for you three."

"Hey, don't blame me," Harry said. "This is all Hermione's idea."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I thought you said you'd help."

"I did." Harry held up his hands. "And I will. I don't know what I'm meant to be doing, mind you, but I will certainly help."

"Help with what?" Ginny asked.

"We need to try and keep more Squibs in the Magical community, and to do that, we need families to stop seeing giving birth to a Squib as shameful."

"Why do we need more Squibs?" Ginny asked.

Hermione frowned at her.

"I'm just asking. The only Squibs I know are—"

"I know, I know," Hermione said. "But now that computers are so pervasive in the Muggle world, we need people who can safely interact with them to maintain communication between the two worlds."

"Oh," Ginny said.

"So, I was thinking maybe we could run an ad in the Prophet," Hermione continued.

While Hermione brain stormed ad ideas, Ginny leaned over and whispered to Harry, "What's a computer?"

Harry scratched at his late day stubble. "That's kind of a complicated answer. It's a communications box with information in it, like a library combined with a phone and an atlas and a bunch of other stuff."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Cool. Aren't Muggles clever?"

Harry shrugged. "Dudley had one in his room, but I wasn't allowed to touch it."

"So, if we run an ad letting people know there's a club to help people raise Squibs then we can—"

"That's not going to work," Ron said.

"Well, only a few people might show up at first. But over time—"

"No will show up for that," Ron said firmly.

"Why are you being so negative?" Hermione said, clearly irritated with him.

"I'm not. I'm being realistic. No one will show up, because there's still a stigma attached to having a Squib. If someone shows up, that's admitting to it. You have to get rid of the stigma before you can have a club."

"How are we supposed to do that if we can't get people together to talk about it?" Hermione huffed.

"Simple. You invite them to something they do want, and then you talk about the Squibs as part of that."

"And what do you imagine they want?"

"I reckon they want Harry," Ron said.

Harry had been whispering back and forth with Ginny desperately trying to answer her questions about computers with his very limited knowledge. "What?" he said when he heard his name.

"I reckon if you advertised something like a _Night with Harry Potter_ , loads of people would come to hear him talk," Ron said.

"No way!" Harry said. "I know I said I'd help, but I'm not standing on a stage talking to people and letting them ask me questions. Forget it."

Hermione ignored Harry's refusal. "I see your point about needing something to draw people in, but I don't know how we'd segue from that into the needs of families with Squibs anyway."

"Well," Ron said, warming to his idea. "How about this? You two write up something about growing up in the Muggle world and you present it together."

"That still sounds like me on a stage talking to people," Harry said.

"But Hermione would be with you," Ron said. "You know how she is. She'll end up doing most of the talking anyway."

Hermione frowned at him, but there was no real anger in it. He was probably right.

"How about this?" Ron continued. "You call it _Growing Up Muggle: A Night with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger_."

"I'd go see that," Ginny said.

"Right?" Ron rubbed his hands together, pleased with his idea. "You advertise it in the _Daily Prophet_ , charge admission, and the proceeds can go to a charity that helps families raise their Squib babies."

"There's a charity that does that?" Hermione asked.

Ron snorted. "No. Of course not. I reckon we'll have to start one."

"I don't know anything about raising a Squib baby in the magical world," Hermione said. "Nor do I know how to start a charity."

"Well, someone has to know. Is Filch's Mum still alive?" Harry said.

Ginny shook her head. "I doubt it. Filch is as old as dirt."

"What about Terry?" Ron asked. "Are his parents alive?"

"Maybe," Hermione said. "I don't know how to ask about that though. This is such a sensitive issue."

"But that's what you're trying to end right?" Ginny said. "How sensitive people are about it? How are you going to do that if you don't talk to Squibs?"

Hermione sat down on the sofa next to Ron. "You're right. How am I going to do this?"

"Think about it," Ron said. "It's not like you have to have it all figured out today."

She nodded and leaned back lost in thought. Ron and Harry returned to their game and Ginny picked up her magazine again.

xXx

When Harry and Ginny left to return to Grimmauld Place. Hermione looked at Ron. "I'm in over my depth."

Ron was putting the chess pieces away. "What?"

"With the Squibs. That's so much more complicated than getting an extra class for Muggleborns at Hogwarts. I don't know where to start."

Ron yawned. "Dunno. Filch is out because he'd likely never admit he was a Squib in the first place. So, Terry then?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know Terry that well. He places phone calls for me and sometimes we chat a bit, that's all. I wouldn't feel comfortable going to him."

"You have to start somewhere."

"I know. I just don't know where."

"How about your granddad?"

"He's not a Squib."

"No, but isn't he what you're really looking for. He and his wife had a Squib."

Hermione frowned. "And gave her up."

"They meant to keep her, but then his wife died."

Hermione shook her head. "No. That's a minefield."

"A what?"

"Never mind. I don't want to ask him. It's too soon. He's only just come back into the Magical world. I don't want to chase him out again with painful memories."

"Where do you start then?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

He held out his hand. "Let's go to bed. Sleep on it. Maybe something will come to you."

xXx

The next morning, Hermione hadn't come up with anything. She sat down at the kitchen table across from Ron. Purdy sent a plate of bacon and eggs floating toward her. "Thanks, Purdy." She leaned forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand and poked at the eggs with her fork.

Ron poured her a cup of tea from the pot that was on the table. "I had a think about your problem."

She sat up straight. "Yeah?"

"I reckon you ought to talk to Bill and Fleur."

"Why?"

"They go to charity events, don't they?" He broke off a piece of bacon and popped in his mouth.

"Do they?"

"I've heard mum say something about this or that charity ball that Bill was attending, so I reckon they must know something about how those things work."

Hermione took a bite of toast. "I suppose it doesn't hurt to ask."

"Right? Although, I think Bill left for Sudan yesterday. Something about a new tomb being found, so curses to break, mummies to stop."

"Is Fleur at the Burrow then?"

"Not that I know of, but I suppose she could be."

"I'll pop over to Shell Cottage then. And if she's not there, I'll try the Burrow."

"Good idea. I'm playing Quidditch this morning, remember?"

"With Harry and Ginny and George and Angelina." She finished her eggs.

"Right, and Oliver Wood."

"Three on three, that sounds fun."

"Should be."

"Who gets Ginny?"

"Harry and me, of course."

"Kind of unfair though, isn't it? Since she's a professional."

"So is Oliver. Puddlemere United. Thank you very much."

"But isn't he reserve team? Ginny is first string."

Ron grinned. "Yes, she is." He stood, and plucked the last piece of bacon off his plate. "Good luck with Fleur. I need to get going."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Have a good match."

He leaned over and kissed her, lightly squeezing her breast as he did so.

"Hey," she said, laughing and pulling away from him.

"For luck," he said cheekily and strolled out of the kitchen.

She shook her head at him again and finished her breakfast.

xXx

A little while later, Hermione Apparated to Shell Cottage. There was a fierce wind blowing off the water as she made her way up the path from the beach to knock on the green door.

A moment later, the peep hole opened. "Hermione?" Fleur said, opening the door.

"Hello. Are you busy?" Hermione asked.

"No, come in."

Hermione was grateful to be out of the wind. "It's blowing a gale out there."

"Yes, it's been doing that all morning. We're sure to have a storm later."

Hermione could smell raspberries in the air. "What are you making?"

Fleur walked into the kitchen. "Just some potions for the house."

Hermione followed. "That smells like contraceptive potion."

"It is."

"Oh. I thought…well…"

Fleur turned away from her and stirred the cauldron. "I was, but now I'm not."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was early. I'm fine." Fleur continued to stir the potion. "We're supposed to wait to try again, so I thought I'd brew some of this." She flicked her wand and the flame disappeared. "It just needs to cool now."

"Wouldn't the charm be easier?"

"No. It's easier just to take a drop of this every day rather than to have to say the charm in the moment. I…" She shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

"I do though."

Fleur looked at her sharply. "How could you? You and Ron are both completely human."

"True." Hermione sat down at the table. "But we're two humans who've taken an inordinate amount of magical damage."

Fleur's mouth dropped open.

"We haven't cast the charm in quite a while." She shrugged. "Not that it seems to matter."

Fleur sat across from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that was an issue."

"Apparently, it is. Ron says we should give it five years before we start looking into other options."

"That's wise. You're both very young. Much younger than Bill and me."

"Did the healers have any suggestions?" Hermione asked.

Fleur sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. "Not really. According to them our magic just needs to align. Supposedly, if we can get that to happen once, it will be easier after that, but getting it to happen the first time is proving very challenging and very heartbreaking."

"I'm so sorry."

"Me too." Fleur sighed. "This is the third miscarriage."

"Three?" Hermione said. "I didn't realize."

"We only told the family about the one that looked like it would go to term. The other two happened early."

Hermione felt awful for her and couldn't help worrying that her own future might be the same should she manage to get pregnant at all. "Ron said Bill was in Sudan. Are you going to stay at the Burrow?"

Fleur shook her head. "I don't think so. Arthur and Molly are very sweet, but they cannot help but talk about children. I just can't listen to that right now."

"Of course not. But you shouldn't stay here on you own. Come stay with us."

"I wouldn't want to impose. You already have Harry living there."

"Nonsense. You're no imposition. You're family. Besides, Ginny is on a two-week break, so Harry's at Grimmauld Place with her."

Fleur raised her eyebrows hopefully. "You're sure you wouldn't mind?"

"Are you kidding? I'd love it. I'll take a few days off. We can go shopping in London, Muggle or magical. I don't care which."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. I'm essentially on twenty-four-hour call for house elf emergencies, but I only have to go into the office to handle paperwork or if there is a free elf that comes in looking for work."

"That happens?"

"Now that there are a dozen or so free elves out there, it does occasionally."

"Wow."

"So, you'll come stay?"

"I will."

"Great."

Fleur looked at the cauldrons cooling on the counter. "I have some things I need to finish up here first."

"Of course."

"Is that why you came out? To invite me stay?"

Hermione shook her head. "Actually no. I had a question."

"Ask away."

"Ron said you and Bill go to a lot of charitable functions."

Fleur cocked her head. "I don't know about a lot, but we go to some. Gringotts hosts a charity ball to raise money for Hogwarts scholarships every year. Along with the community, they invite the top students in their seventh year. It's a good way to stay in the good graces of the wizarding community while also getting a chance to recruit the best and the brightest. Bill got his start with the bank at that ball."

"Really?" Hermione said, frowning. "All the top students?"

Fleur gave her a sympathetic smile. "Well, not the ones that break into vaults, steal valuable artifacts, let loose dragons, and then destroy part of the building on their way out."

"Oh. How short-sighted of them."

They both laughed.

"The Triwizard Committee also does a charity event every year, and as a former champion, I'm expected to attend."

"Really? Harry doesn't go, does he?"

"Not so far, but every year they hope he will. It seems he's been quite busy the last few years."

Hermione smiled. "A bit, yes."

"So, why do you ask?"

"Well…" Hermione cleared her throat. "The thing is, I'd like to do something to help magical families who have non-magical children keep their families together."

"Really? How would that work?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm not entirely sure. I need to talk to some non-magical people who've stayed in touch with the magical world, but it's proving rather difficult."

"The Order had Squibs working for them."

Hermione had forgotten all about that. "Oh, right. Like Harry's neighbor?"

"Exactly," Fleur said. "And several others. Did you ask Molly or Arthur? They would probably know."

"I haven't, but that's a great idea."

"But what does that have to do with charities?"

"We thought it might be beneficial if there was a charity that people could go to for help, but I haven't the slightest idea how to start a charity or who we could get to manage it or what they would tell families if they did come. Essentially, I know nothing. I'm starting to think this is hopeless."

Fleur sat back and cocked her head as she pondered the issue. "You know, Gringotts has been trying to get the wizarding community to hang on to their Squibs for over a decade now."

"That's not surprising with computers being such a big part of Muggle banking."

"Exactly. You should take this to the goblins.

Hermione laughed.

"Seriously, I bet they would support an initiative like that."

"Not from me they wouldn't. You should see the looks they give me when I go into the bank. I've seen people happier to see a Blast-ended Skrewt."

Fleur winced. "I can see how that would be a problem."

"Besides, before I can start a charity, I have to figure out who these families can talk to for help."

Fleur nodded. "Yes. That does seem like the first step."

Hermione stood. "I should get going. What time do you think you'll be at ours?"

"I only need a few hours."

"I'll see you before dinner then."

"Yes." Fleur smiled as she walked Hermione to the door.


	12. Salon

That night Ron was a bit later coming home than usual, because he'd stayed late at the shop, going over the books with George and Angelina. He was surprised to hear someone who wasn't Hermione talking in the kitchen, but then he realized from the accent that it was Fleur. She was clearly finishing a story because she said, "And then Maman said, Absolument pas!"

They howled with laugher.

When Ron went into the kitchen both women were standing at the counter. There were charmed knives slicing onions and carrots behind Hermione. Fleur was stirring a pot on the stove. They each had a glass of red wine. He smiled to see Hermione so happy. She'd been so tense lately. It was nice to see her having a laugh. "Hello, Fleur," he said to his sister-in-law. "What brings you out?"

Fleur's smile faded some. She looked at Hermione. "You didn't tell him?"

"No, but it's not as though he'll mind." The carrots and onions rose in the air and dropped into the pot.

"What won't I mind?" Ron asked.

"Bill is out of town for a few days, so I asked Fleur to stay with us."

"Fine by me," Ron said. "What's for dinner?"

"Beef stew." Fleur stirred the vegetables.

"Yum, but why isn't Purdy cooking?" Ron asked. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine. Fleur offered to cook, so I gave Purdy the night off."

"Okay. How long before dinner? Do I have time for a shower?"

"Of course," Fleur said.

"Great." Ron headed upstairs. "I'll be down in a few."

xXx

Hermione watched him go and then said to Fleur. "I'll be right back." She went upstairs hoping to catch Ron before he got in the shower. He was changing when she went into their bedroom. She closed the door behind her and Impreturbed the door.

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Don't get excited."

"Too late." He grinned at her and pulled off his shirt. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you before I offered for Fleur to come and stay with us."

"That's all right. She's family."

"I thought that's how you'd feel, but I should have run it by you."

"No harm done." Ron pulled off the rest of his clothes and put on his bathrobe. He looked at her. "Is there something else?"

"I suppose you noticed we were having wine."

"Yeah. Oh, so I guess she's not pregnant."

"Not anymore, so don't say anything about it or babies or anything to do with children, all right?"

"Sure."

"She says she's okay, but she seems kind of, I don't know, sensitive at the moment. I think Bill must be too."

Ron nodded. "I reckon. Not that he'd tell me. Charlie is more likely to hear that sort of thing." He looked at her. "Are you okay?"

She smiled. "I'm fine."

He nodded, but the concern remained on his face.

"I should get back downstairs."

He winked at her. "Yeah, or she'll think we're up here shagging."

"And that would be rude."

"It would. Unless of course you want to, in which case, I'm completely fine with it."

She shook her head at him. "I'm going downstairs."

"I won't be long. Although, now that you've filled my head with thoughts of shagging, I might be a tad longer."

She chuckled and closed the door behind her.

xXx

Over dinner, Fleur brought up the issue of helping families with non-magical children and the Squibs that worked with the Order of the Phoenix.

"Talking to Mrs. Figg is a goodt starting point," Ron said. "Because Harry knows her so you've got an in there."

Fleur agreed.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure you're right, but I don't want to bother Harry while Ginny is home."

"Nah," Ron said. "It can wait."

"In the meantime," Fleur said. "I was thinking about your charity issue."

"Go on then," Hermione said.

"What if I helped you organize it? I know how to manage that sort of thing from working with the Triwizard Tournament charity and from working at Gringotts. I can't imagine we're talking about a huge fund or very many participants. I'm sure I could handle it."

"I would love that," Hermione said. "I'll take all the help I can get."

"Perfect," Fleur said. "I still think you should approach the goblins though. Keeping Squibs in the magical community is so important to them."

Hermione took a roll from the basket in the center of the table. "I just don't think I'm the one to make that overture. I don't even think Harry could do it."

"They pretty much hate all three of us," Ron said.

"Why don't you do it?" Hermione said.

"Me?" Fleur said. "I don't think so."

"Why not? Once we get some people on board to help the families and get the charity set up, you could take it to the goblins to ask for their support."

Fleur frowned. "But it's your idea."

"Taking it to the goblins was your idea. Besides, you'll be running the charity so who better to present it?"

"Ah." Fleur took a sip of wine. "I walked right into that, didn't I?"

Ron gave her a sympathetic smile. "It happens to all of us. Harry does it too. You're sitting around having a casual chat, and the next thing you know, you're part of some mad plan that one of them has cooked up."

Hermione frowned at him. "In our defense, we rope in each other as well. Besides, it's not as if you've never had a mad plan."

"True," Ron said. "So true."

Fleur shook her head. "Why did I say I would stay here?"

"It's too late now," Ron said. "Who knows what all you'll be involved in by the time you leave."

Hermione picked up her plate and took it into the kitchen. "I'm ignoring you both." Leaving the kitchen, she picked up her glass of wine and went into the parlor. Ron and Fleur followed. "Honestly though," Hermione said, taking a seat on one of the sofas. "I think we're thinking too far in advance."

Fleur nodded. "I think so too. The issue is still so fragile, I don't think you're even close to needing a charity."

Hermione sighed. "I wish it was like it was at school."

"What?" Ron didn't miss school at all.

"It was so much easier to talk about things. We would all be sitting around in the common room, issues would come up, and we could discuss and argue about them."

"Like S.P.E.W.," Ron said.

"Exactly," Hermione said.

"What?" Fleur said.

Ron and Hermione explained about Hermione's early efforts toward elf rights.

"And now you are in charge of House Elf Relocation," Fleur said.

"Yes," Hermione said.

"So, invite people over," Fleur suggested.

"Just randomly?" Hermione said.

"No, of course not. Start with your friends," Fleur said.

"That's a good idea," Ron said. "We could start with classmates, so it really would be like in school. Only better, because no studying, and we can serve alcohol without getting in trouble."

Hermione nodded. "A grass roots effort then. I like it."

"Great," Ron said. "I'll stop by the pub after work and see who I can round up."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not? It's either that or send out invitations and that seems too formal."

"I suppose. Okay then," Hermione said.

"Perfect," Fleur said. "A mad plan."

Ron and Hermione laughed.

xXx

The next day, Hermione stopped in at work before she and Fleur spent the rest of the day shopping and then finished up at the salon to learn new glamor charms. Hermione had never considered that there were witches and wizards who specialized in grooming and glamor charms and that you could pay them to teach you. If you couldn't manage to perform the spells yourself, you could pay them to do them for you. Naturally, learning the spells was more expensive but cheaper in the long run.

Ron always wanted her hair down, but managing to keep it curly without being frizzy took a lot of time and effort between charms and Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Fleur convinced her that one of the salon experts could teach her a better charm that would wrangle her hair into luscious long ringlets. Fleur, as it turned out, was right. Her hair looked amazing, better than it had ever looked down.

She stood in front of the foyer mirror and stared. Fleur Apparated in behind her and laughed. "You can't get over it, can you?"

Hermione turned to her. "No! Look at it!"

Fleur laughed again. "I told you, if you want to learn a spell right don't just read it, go to an expert."

Hermione looked back in the mirror. "You're a genius!"

"Ron will like this, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes!"

Fleur chuckled. "Perhaps I should spend the night at the cottage."

Hermione tutted. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll do no such thing."

"I suppose that's what silencing charms are for." Fleur hung her cloak on one of the pegs by the door and went into the parlor.

"Absolutely." Hermione blushed and hung up her coat before following her.

There was a letter from Bill waiting and Fleur took it upstairs to read and said she might take a nap. Hermione thought that sounded like a good idea, but she wanted to check with Purdy to make sure there was nothing that needed seeing to at the office first.

xXx

When Ron came home later that evening, Hermione stood to greet him as he came into the parlor. "Hey," he said, eyeing the new hairdo. "You look good. What's the occasion?"

She frowned at him. "Thanks."

"Oh, come on. You just don't usually wear your hair down." He pulled her into a hug. She didn't resist. "But I love it down."

"Fleur took me to the salon, and I learned a new spell to arrange it like this."

Ron grinned at her. "I like it. How mad will you be if I mess it up?"

She laughed. "Go ahead, you can touch it. There's no Sleekeazy's in it."

"Really?" Ron slid his fingers into the soft curls. Normally, if she'd done her hair, she insisted he stay away from it until whatever event she'd done it for was over.

"It's supposed to resist wind, rain, men's fingers—" She ticked off the spell's strengths on her fingers.

Ron leaned down and kissed her, stopping her list. She responded enthusiastically, pulling him closer and opening her mouth to him. He was about to ask where Fleur was when he heard the Floo open and remembered he'd invited people to dinner.

"Did you forget you invited us over, Ron?" Dean said as he stepped out of the fireplace followed by Seamus, Luna, and Neville. Hermione surprised him by pressing her forehead against his chest and laughing. He laughed too as did everyone else. When he stepped away from Hermione her face was red and he knew his was too, but it didn't matter.

"I suppose they're still making up for all those years dancing around each other," Seamus said.

"It's nice though," Luna said.

Hermione shook her head and chuckled again. "What would everyone like to drink?"

xXx

Fleur joined them a few minutes later. As the evening progressed from drinks to dinner, everyone caught up with each other's lives. Just before dinner, Hannah's shift ended at the Leaky Cauldron and she joined them, delighting Neville. She brought her coworker Penny with her. Penny had been a Hufflepuff who'd left after her O.W.L.s. She was currently dating Dean. After introductions, everyone sat down at the dinner table. The conversation shifted from person to person and eventually got around to Hermione, who briefly updated everyone on her family situation allowing her to seamlessly bring up the state of Squibs in their world. To a person, they were all surprised to hear that the Ministry had good jobs available to Squibs, who wanted to stay connected to the magical world. Hermione was pleased by how positively that information was received and felt good as the conversation shifted away from her.

"Where is Harry tonight?" Seamus asked.

"He and Ginny are having dinner with some of her teammates," Ron said. "They said they'd come over for dessert."

"Oh good," Luna said. "I haven't seen Ginny in a while."

There was a momentary lull as everyone ate. Hermione looked over at Ron and he winked at her. She smiled at him and winked back.

"I was in the bank yesterday," Hannah said. "That statue of you three and a goblin in the main hall is massive. It didn't look that big in the paper."

"Yeah," Ron said awkwardly.

Hermione took a sip of her wine.

"So," Hannah continued. "They just let you guys in the bank?"

"Sure," Ron said.

"Then why did you have to escape on a dragon?" Hannah asked.

"What dragon?" Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

Dean and Luna looked at their plates. Hannah frowned. "As it so happens, I was in Diagon Alley that day. I saw the three of you blast out of the top of the bank clinging to an old white dragon."

"Erm." Ron glanced at Hermione.

"You saw what you saw," Hermione said.

"I don't understand," Hannah said.

"And we can't explain it," Hermione said. "Shall we move into the parlor?"

Everyone got up from the table and made their way into the other room, taking their drinks with them.

"You've made some sort of deal with the goblins then," Neville said, taking a seat next to Hannah on one of the sofas.

Ron and Hermione looked at him and smiled weakly.

"That's crap," Seamus said. "Are we never to know the truth of what happened then? I don't even know where you three went that year. What were you doing?"

"Like me," Dean said. "They were on the run."

"Yeah, I know that," Seamus said. "But where were they. What were they doing?"

Ron cleared his throat and looked at Hermione. "Mostly, we were in the woods, in a tent."

"What woods?"

"All of them, I think," Ron said. "We moved constantly."

"So, you were just running around camping?" Seamus said. "To what end?"

Ron frowned at him. "The main goal was to keep Harry alive while we figured out how to kill Voldemort."

"And you did, for which we're all eternally grateful," Dean said.

"Absolutely," Seamus said. "But how did you do that?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other again.

"Oh, let me guess," Seamus said. "You can't say."

"No," Hermione said. "Sorry."

"So, you three spent the year running around camping while the rest of us fought off Snape and the Carrows and their bloody goons casting Crusiatus for the slightest infraction."

Hermione coughed and stood. "Excuse me." She hurried out of the room.

Ron went to get up, but Luna put a cool hand on his arm. "I'll go." She slipped from the room like a whisper.

Ron clenched his teeth and tried to calm down. He knew Seamus still wasn't over Lavender's death, but that didn't mean he was okay with what Seamus was saying. "We weren't on some bloody camping trip. And while I appreciate that things at Hogwarts were bad, they weren't great for us either."

"How bad could they have been?" Seamus said. "You had her, didn't you? On your own, all those months. Suffering, were you?"

"Seamus, you're out of line, mate," Dean said.

"What would you know about it?" Seamus said.

Ron looked at Dean. "You didn't tell him?"

Dean shook his head.

"Tell me what?" Seamus said.

"Why?" Ron asked Dean, ignoring Seamus.

"Because, he was wrecked after the battle, and there was no time before and since then..." He shrugged.

"Tell me what?" Seamus shouted.

Dean sighed and started the story of being captured.

xXx

Luna stepped out of the kitchen door into the back garden, quietly closing it behind her. Hermione was standing with her arms wrapped around her. "Are you okay?"

Hermione turned to see her. "I'm fine. I just needed a bit of fresh air."

Luna stood next to her. "I'm sorry about Seamus. He's a bit like an open wound since Lavender died. He's quick to anger, and he drinks too much. I think Dean spends a lot of time trying to keep him out of trouble."

Hermione nodded. "I know he took her death hard."

"He doesn't know what happened to you."

"I know. It's fine. I'm fine."

Luna sighed. "Do you still have nightmares?"

"Not nearly as often. You?"

"Sometimes. Having Rolf there helps."

Hermione smiled at her. "So that's going well then?"

Luna blushed slightly. "Yes. I would have brought him tonight, but he's on a field assignment in Brittany."

"We should get together when he gets back."

Luna nodded. "That would be nice."

Fleur stepped through the back door then. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said. "We were just talking."

Fleur stood next to them. "You might want to stay out here a bit longer. Dean is telling Seamus about last year."

"He hasn't told him before?"

"Apparently not," Fleur said.

"Oh," Luna said. "That's not good."

"I thought they were best mates," Hermione said.

"They are," Luna said.

"So why wouldn't he—" Hermione started to ask.

"I told you," Luna said. "Seamus hasn't been himself. Dean was probably trying to spare him."

Neville and Hannah came out into the garden then, followed a moment later by Ron and Penny.

Ron ran his fingers back through his hair and sighed. "I think Dean and Seamus need a minute. You know how it is when you fight with your best mate."

Hermione chuckled. "No. I have no idea what that's like."

Everyone but Penny laughed. "I don't get it," she said.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione were best mates in school," Neville explained. "Ron and Hermione were notorious for their rows."

"It was really just sexual tension though," Luna said.

Everyone laughed again except Ron and Hermione, who both blushed.

"Not always," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "Sometimes, I had a legitimate beef."

"Oh, please," Hermione said. "Like you were the only one."

There was a popping sound and Harry and Ginny appeared in the garden. "Hullo," Harry said. "What are you all doing out here?"

"We're giving Dean and Seamus some space," Neville said.

Ron explained what happened.

Hermione called Purdy and asked her to bring Harry and Ginny something to drink and to bring everyone else a refill. Hannah introduced Harry and Ginny to Penny who was clearly impressed to be meeting Harry. Even though they'd been in school at the same time, they hadn't known each other except by sight.

"This is a really nice garden," Penny said, trying to think of something to say to break the spell of meeting the Chosen One. "And your house is amazing."

"Thanks," Hermione said. "It was a wedding present from my parents. I grew up here."

"Wow," Penny said, looking around.

"We have a Bowtruckle tree," Ron said. "Anyone want to see?"

"Ooh, yes," Luna said.

They all trooped into the garden shed so they could observe the Bowtruckles without bothering them.

xXx

As they were coming out of the shed a little while later, Hermione thought they must look a bit like a clown car. Dean and Seamus came into the garden then.

Seamus' face was red, and Dean looked sad.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Seamus said. "I wasn't trying to upset you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You drink too much," Luna said in that ethereal way of hers that managed to cut to the quick despite her airy tone.

Everyone fell silent.

Seamus scrubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah, I reckon I do. I've got to quit that. It's turned me into prat."

"You're not a prat," Dean said.

Seamus looked up at him. "Thanks, but we both know I have been."

"We've all been there, mate," Ron said.

"Absolutely," Hermione said.

Seamus looked at her. "Seriously? When have you ever been off your face?"

"You'd be surprised," Hermione said.

"She can't be trusted around a good bottle of wine," Fleur said, smiling.

Everyone chuckled.

"And who always brings that bottle?" Ron said pointedly.

Fleur shrugged. "I'm French. I have to bring wine."

"On that note," Hermione said. "Let's go back in and have dessert. Purdy made sticky toffee pudding."

xXx

It was past midnight when the last of the guests left. Harry and Ginny decided to stay rather than go back to Grimmauld Place, so they went up to the attic room Harry stayed in when Ginny was with the team.

Fleur yawned. "I'm going to go up too. Thank you for letting me stay over. I've had a very good time."

"Us too," Hermione said warmly. She yawned.

"Come on," Ron said. "Let's go up. I'm knackered." He stood and held out his hand. She took it and followed him up to bed. Hermione went first in the loo and was sound asleep by the time Ron finished brushing his teeth. He smiled at her sleeping form and climbed in next to her.

Sometime later, Hermione jerked awake when Bellatrix LeStrange cast Crucio at her in her dream. She reached for Ron, but his side of the bed was empty. She sat for a moment to calm her breathing before getting up and pulling on her dressing gown to go downstairs.

Ron was sitting on one of the sofas with a cup in his hand. He looked up when Hermione came down the stairs. "Hey," he said. "What are you doing up? Did I wake you?"

She shook her head. "No. I had a nightmare."

"I'm sorry. I had one too. I thought I'd calm down with a cup of chamomile."

She sat next to him on the edge of the sofa.

"Want some?" he asked, holding the cup out to her.

"No, I just…"

"What?"

"Want you," she said quietly.

He set the mug on the coffee table. "Come here." She leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. "Better?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up."

"It's okay."

"I was just trying not to wake you. I should've figured you'd have a nightmare too."

"Isn't that stupid? One little comment that wasn't even really directed at me."

Ron kissed the top of her head. "It wasn't directed at me either, so I guess I'm just as stupid as you are."

"You're not stupid."

"Nope. And neither are you."

"Still, it's been over a year."

"That's not such a long time, considering. Besides, it's a lot better than it used to be." A shiver ran through her and he held her a little tighter.

"True. It used to be much worse."

"So, progress." He kissed the top of her head.

She pressed her cheek against his chest. "Progress."

xXx

The next morning, Harry and Ginny came downstairs to find Ron and Hermione fast asleep on the sofa. Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at them for a moment before looking at Ginny.

"What's that about, you reckon?" Ginny whispered.

Harry sighed. "Nightmares."

"Ah," Ginny said. "But why are they down here?"

Fleur came out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

"Who knows?" Harry said.

Fleur stopped behind Ginny. "Why are you…oh. Should we wake them?"

Harry looked at his watch. "I'll do it." He went behind the sofa and touched Ron's shoulder. "Hey."

Ron's eyes fluttered open. "What?"

"It's morning."

Hermione stirred next to Ron. "Ugh," she moaned, sitting up to stretch her back. "We fell asleep down here."

Ron tugged the back of her dressing gown to keep her from standing. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a pleading sort of look followed by a glance down. She followed his eyes and smirked.

"Purdy," she called. "Will you fix everyone something to eat."

Taking the hint, Harry went into the kitchen followed by Ginny and Fleur.

Ron sighed in relief. "Thanks. I don't usually wake up with an audience."

Hermione smiled and dropped a hand to his lap and gave him a gentle squeeze. "No fun for us this morning. Go take a shower. I'll see to our guests."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I'll be down in a few." He hurried upstairs, sporting very tented pajama pants.

Hermione chuckled and went into the powder room to wash up and tame her hair. A few minutes later she went into the kitchen. "How is everyone this morning? Sleep well?"

"Better than you, it seems," Ginny said.

Purdy had supplied everyone with large pot of tea and another taller pot of coffee. Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee. "Yes, well, you know how it goes."

"You're still having nightmares?" Fleur's brow wrinkled with concern.

"Sometimes," Hermione said. "Not nearly as often anymore."

"I'm sorry," Fleur said. "I was hoping they would have stopped entirely by now."

"No such luck," Harry said.

"No," Ginny said. "But Hermione's right, it's better than it used to be."

"True," Harry said.

A large platter of bacon and eggs sailed over to the table, followed by grilled tomatoes and a bowl of beans. They all filled their plates and were eating when Ron came in a few minutes later, his hair still damp, from the shower. He filled his plate and looked at his watch. "I can't believe we slept sitting up."

"I know," Hermione said, rolling her neck. "That was dumb."

Ron shoveled food in his mouth and nodded. He looked at his watch again. "I gotta go. George and I have a meeting with a buyer from Prague."

"Me too," Harry said, standing. He looked at Ginny.

She smiled at him. "I'll take the Floo with you and just leave from the Ministry."

"All right," he said, smiling. She was returning to Wales and the team.

Everyone stood and hugged Ginny. Ron kissed Hermione goodbye and the three of them were off. "Want another cup of coffee?" Hermione asked Fleur. "I don't need to go in for a while."

"Sure. I'm not due in at all today."

Hermione poured them each a cup of coffee, and they took them into the parlor to drink. The owls had arrived with the post, so Hermione picked it up to take with her. She sat down on the sofa and began sorting the mail and stretching her neck to the side at the same time.

"You might need another spa day," Fleur said.

Hermione sighed. "I can't believe we fell asleep on the sofa like that. We've never done that before."

Fleur chuckled. "Seriously? Bill and I fall asleep together on the sofa all the time. Although, we are generally laying down and the wireless is on. He'll put on a Quidditch match and say to me, 'Fleur come lay down for a bit and listen to the match with me.' We almost never hear the end of the match."

Hermione chuckled. "That sounds a lot nicer that falling asleep sitting up with your neck kinked. That's not a good way to start the day. We generally like a little more time together in the morning and oversleeping and waking up with an audience doesn't really work."

Fleur shook her head. Then she looked at Hermione. "You're not saying you have sex first thing in the morning."

"Um. Most mornings. Why? Don't you?"

"Heavens, no! I'm not even awake until my second cup of coffee. I suppose Bill could manage it if he didn't expect anything from me."

Hermione laughed. "I'm an early riser and Ron prefers that I wake him up rather than the alarm."

Fleur shook her head in disbelief but smiled. "I'm sure he does."

"It's a nice way to start the day," Hermione said primly. "You should consider it."

"Madness!"

Hermione laughed again.


	13. Birthday

Just before noon, Ron stopped by the Auror's office at the Ministry of Magic. Harry was sitting at his desk writing a report on a long piece of parchment. Taylor sat across from him at what used to be Ron's desk. He looked up.

"Hey," Taylor said. "What brings you out?"

"I wanted to talk to this bloke," Ron said, pointing his thumb at Harry.

"And you have to do that at work?" Taylor said. He knew Harry often stayed with Ron and Hermione.

"Nope. I was going to see if he wanted to go to lunch." Ron looked at Harry. "Well?"

Harry looked down at the parchment and set down his quill. "I'll finish this when we get back. I'm craving a curry."

"Go on then," Ron said and followed him out.

When they were on the elevators by themselves, Harry said, "What's wrong?"

Ron smiled at him. "Nothing. I just didn't want to talk at home, because I didn't want Hermione to hear."

"Hear what?" Harry's brow wrinkled with concern.

"That I want to have a big party for her birthday this year."

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "We've never made a big deal of her birthday before."

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and they walked out into the cavernous main hall of the Ministry and toward the rows of fireplaces.

"Well, that's kind of the point, isn't it? Her birthday always fell so close to the beginning of the school year that it just kind of got swept under the rug. Then when we were on the run, well, things were mad around her birthday and then last year…I really should have done something last year, but we were in Auror training, and she was doing independent study and taking exams, so…I was kind of a shit boyfriend about it."

"She didn't seem to mind. I've never even heard her mention it. I don't think her parents made a big deal of her birthday either. As I recall, she got a card, and they put a great wad of galleons in her account at Gringotts and told her to do as she pleased."

"I just want more for her this year. I mean, don't you remember what she did for my birthday when we were on the run."

Harry grinned. "She bought steaks and beer."

"And we danced and she did that trick with the fire."

"That was a good night. But it's not like she did much last year."

"Oh, she did." Ron blushed.

Harry held up a palm. "Say no more."

"Right." Ron rubbed his neck. They stepped into the first available fireplace and went to the Leaky Cauldron. "I thought we could have a big party with our friends and the family and her family, all of them." They stepped out of the fire into the pub.

"That's going to be a very big party."

"Too big?" Ron asked.

"Why not see if her family could all come for dinner, maybe the day before and then do a big party for friends on her actual birthday?"

"You think?" Ron said.

"I think she might feel a bit strained to have to look after her folks and her grandparents at a big party."

Ron sighed. "You're probably right. But hosting two days of events seems like too much."

"You know Purdy will do most of the work. If you're worried about it, I can ask Kreacher to help."

"I'm sure Purdy can handle it. I'm more concerned that it's too much for Hermione to deal with."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly. She's just got a lot on her plate and this family stuff isn't easy for her."

"Then why not skip them and just have a big party with our friends?" Harry held the door open and they went out into Muggle London.

Ron shook his head. Harry, having never really dealt with his own family, often missed the point when it came to other peoples' families. "No. Maybe I should ask Mum to host."

"That'd work. Two families coming together and all that."

"Yeah, Mum would probably love that actually. I'll send her a note when I get back to the shop." They walked toward an Indian restaurant that Harry liked.

"Excellent," Harry said. "And look, chicken curry is on special today."

"A sign," Ron said, grinning.

"Couldn't be plainer than the Grim." They both laughed as they took a table.

xXx

That night, Hermione had another nightmare. She reached for Ron and he was there, warm and solid next to her. She slid over closer to him and tried to slow her breathing and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes, Bellatrix was back. After half an hour, she gave up and went downstairs.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table when she went in to make herself some warm milk. "Hey."

"Hey," he said. "Can't sleep?"

"No. Are you having nightmares too?"

"Not exactly," Harry said. "I miss Gin."

"I'm sorry." Hermione sat across from him.

"I know. I just wish I knew how to deal with it better." He looked at her and gave her a wry smile. "Why couldn't you have dated Viktor when you were older? I could use some advice."

She huffed at him. "Sorry, I can't help you with that."

"Surely, you must have some insight," he teased. "He spent all that time working on your flying."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, well, that stopped after the third session."

Harry smirked at her. "Who knew Viktor Krum was a quitter?"

"He wasn't a quitter, but he wasn't a fool either. It was a waste of time trying to get me comfortable on a broom."

"But as I recall, you kept going to that Tuesday evening…" He made air quotes. "Study group."

"We did study, sometimes." Hermione blushed. "He was very smart and a serious student."

"And a good snog?" Harry waggled his eyebrows at her.

"That too. But mostly we talked and a lot of that was about Quidditch. He spoke of it…I don't know…almost like a vocation."

Harry looked at her. "Really?"

"Yes. I think he saw it as his destiny."

"Yeah, well, he's a top player. I can see how he might think about it like that."

"Yes. But my point is that Ginny has never talked, at least not to me, about Quidditch the way Viktor did. To her, I think it's a game. One that she's excellent at, but still, just a game."

"What do you think that means?"

"I don't know. It might not mean anything. Knowing two professional Quidditch players doesn't give me a large enough data set to extrapolate any real conclusions."

Harry chuckled. "Of course. Well, it makes me feel better anyway."

Hermione smiled and patted his hand. "Good."

xXx

The next morning, before work, Ron popped out to the Burrow to talk to his mum about hosting Hermione's family for dinner the day before her birthday. They talked about who to invite and the menu.

Before he left, Ron leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Thanks Mum."

"I'll send out invitations. Don't worry about a thing. You plan your party, I'll handle this one."

"You're the best Mum."

"Of course, I am dear. Off you go then. Don't want to be late for work."

He took a fresh scone off the table and smiled at her before tossing Floo powder into the fireplace and stepping into the green flame to be whisked away to Diagon Alley.

xXx

Later that day, Hermione left work to meet Ron for lunch. She'd spent the morning doing research and location spells for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They were still short-handed and she was happy to fill in. The work was interesting and offered more immediate gratification than a lot of the work with the house elves.

Ron was with a customer when she walked in. "If you want to grab my cloak out of my locker, I'll be ready in a minute."

"All right." Hermione headed to the back room. There was a small bank of lockers in the back of the shop. None of them had name tags but it was easy enough to tell which one was Ron's by the large Chudley Cannons sticker on the front. It wasn't locked so she opened the door and pulled out his cloak, but something caught her eye. On the inside door, was the photo the _Daily Prophet_ had taken of her holding baby Teddy at his parents' funeral. Below that was the parchment note she'd sent Ron asking him to come out to Heathgate when she'd returned from Australia, and below that, was a photo of the three of them taken at the beginning of sixth year. Ron and Harry were in Quidditch gear and she was in her school robes. They looked grubby as if they were just coming back from practice. She was having an unusually good hair moment, and she looked up at Ron with undisguised love and affection. She wondered who took the photo and how long he'd had it. The last picture wasn't a photo but a drawing of her reading on the beach. It was signed by Dean, but she'd never seen it before.

"Hey," Ron said, coming up behind her. "What's taking so long?"

"I've never seen some of these."

He looked over her shoulder.

"Who took this?" She pointed to the photo of the three of them.

"Colin. He gave it to me ages ago."

"You never showed it to me."

"Did I not?" Ron pulled on his cloak.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know you didn't."

He shrugged. "I just…you know…"

"What?"

"Really like the way you're looking at me in that."

She smiled at him. "I look at you like that all the time."

"Maybe now. Not so much back then."

"More often than you ever noticed. And what about this drawing Dean did. I've never seen that either."

"He gave it to me when we all met back at the cottage."

"Why didn't you tell me? It's really good."

"No reason. Come on, let's go. I'm hungry."

Hermione closed the locker and followed Ron out into the street.

"You want to leave the alley?" he asked. "I'm kind in the mood for some of those noodles."

"Pad Thai?"

"Yeah, that."

Her parents had taken them out for Thai food a couple of months ago and Ron had been obsessed with it ever since. They walked to a Thai restaurant on Old Compton Street and were seated right away. The waitress brought them water and took their order.

"So, why didn't you show me the drawing?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "Well, you know, I didn't know how you'd feel about it."

She smiled. "It's not like he drew me naked."

"Right, because then Dean would be dead now."

She chuckled. "So why not show me?"

"I guess I was worried it would remind you of that day."

"Which day? I read on the beach a lot when we were at the cottage."

"That's true. I should've shown you then."

She cocked her head at him. "Did I have an aftershock the day he drew that?"

"Yeah."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You're really thoughtful sometimes, you know that?"

He smiled at her. "I like to think I have my moments."

The waitress brought their lunch and Ron's eyes lit up. "I love this stuff."

Hermione chuckled. As they ate, she thought about the photo he'd saved from the _Daily Prophet_ of her holding Teddy. At the time, the reporter had assumed the baby was hers and Ron's and she'd been furious that they hadn't bothered asking, but clearly Ron liked the idea of her holding a little red-haired baby. Ron smiled at her around a mouthful of noodles. She smiled back and didn't mention the other photo.

xXx

A few days later they were at the Burrow, getting ready for dinner. Purdy had brought Hermione's parents out, and had left to get her grandmother. Her grandfather and Madam Rosmerta hadn't arrived yet.

"Could you light the candles for me, Hermione?" Molly said. Normally, she would have asked Ron, but he was out in the shed with his father and Hermione's, so that Wendall could identify some Muggle artifacts for Arthur.

"Sure." Hermione drew her wand.

Her mother, who was leaning against the counter drinking a glass of wine, cocked her head. "Is that different?"

"What?" Hermione asked as she lit the candles that were placed in the center of the table.

"Your wand. It looks different."

"Yes. I had to get a new one."

"Really? I didn't know they wore out."

"They don't," Landen Wright said as he came into the kitchen, followed by Madam Rosmerta. "What happened to your wand?"

"It was confiscated when were captured," Hermione said.

"I thought the Ministry returned the wands the Death Eaters took," Madam Rosmerta said.

"Oh, well," Hermione said awkwardly. "It's just…"

"Hers was destroyed," Ron said, as he stepped into the kitchen followed by his father and Hermione's.

"What wand was destroyed?" Wendall asked from behind him.

"Hermione's," his mother answered.

"Why?" her father asked.

"Most of the Muggleborns who had their wands taken never got them back," Arthur explained. "The Death Eaters burned them."

"Bastards," Ron said.

"Ronald! Language," his mother said from the other side of the kitchen, but it was more out of habit than anything else.

"Sorry, Mum."

"Arthur, perhaps you could take our guest through to the parlor, so I can finish in here," Molly suggested.

"Of course," Arthur said. "Right this way everyone." They all paraded into the parlor.

"What kind of wand do you have now?" Landen asked Hermione.

"Acacia wood with a dragon heartstring core," Hermione said.

Landen's face lit up. "Did you hear that, Rosmerta? Just like mine!"

Rosmerta shook her head good-naturedly. "I can't believe there are two like that." She looked at Ron. "Can you do a thing with her wand?"

Ron shook his head. "No. It just feels like a lump of wood in my hand. Even Harry can't get much out of it."

Everyone but the Grangers chuckled.

"Well, I like it," Hermione said.

"Me too," Landen said, drawing out his wand. "Let me see yours." He handed her his, which was heavier and longer than hers. She gave him hers and he swished it a bit. "This is very nice. Springy."

"Yours is nice too," Hermione said. "It's got real heft to it." For fun she pointed it at the fireplace and cast a spell to light the fire. It lit without difficulty. "Works great too."

Landen smiled broadly and flicked her wand and the candles on the mantel all lit. "Yours too. I don't know what their complaining about."

They both laughed and traded their wands back.

Purdy appeared then with Hermione's grandmother.

The room went silent.

The Scrivenshafts came into the parlor from the kitchen.

Mr. Weasley clapped his hands. "What can I get everyone to drink?"

The next few minutes were spent handing around glasses of wine and ale.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Molly called everyone in for dinner. After the usual taking of seats and passing of food an awkward silence descended. Correctly assuming that the only thing that everyone at the table could agree on was that they all loved Hermione, Arthur asked her about work.

She spent the rest of the meal answering questions that increasingly revolved around the minutia of her various projects. Ron was grateful that Hermione was involved in so much or she would have run out of conversation a lot faster. As it was, she seemed incredibly relieved when Molly served dessert.

As they were enjoying Molly's fabulous sticky toffee pudding, Landen, who was seated across from Monica, smiled at her and said, "I can't get over how much you look like your mother."

What little conversation had been happening ceased. Landen, smiled then at Hermione, "And you look so much like your mother, that of course, you look like your grandmother too."

Honoria huffed at the other end of the table.

"Your biological grandmother, that is to say," Landen corrected. "She was a lovely woman, smart, funny, and very kind. I'm so sorry you don't remember her."

Hermione, who was sitting across from her mother, next to Landen, saw her mother's eyes fill with tears. Her grandmother's face was red and her lips were in a tight angry line that Hermione recognized all too well.

"I'm, of course, so grateful that Honoria was able to take you," Landen continued. "In retrospect, I wish I had tried to raise you myself, but you were a Muggle and I was afraid that I wouldn't do it right. I regret not trying. I regret not at least staying in your life and giving you your father at least."

"She had a father," Honoria said hotly from the other end of the table.

Her mother paled. She stood suddenly. "Excuse me." She went out the back door into the garden.

"Monica," Wen said. He hurried after her.

Landen dropped his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Rosmerta put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "This is difficult for everyone."

"You should have just stayed gone," Honoria said angrily from the other end of the table.

"Honoria!" her sister said.

"I'm serious," Honoria said tightly. "He's done nothing but open old wounds." She stood. "I want to go home." She looked at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you so much for dinner. It was delicious. Hermione?"

"Right," Hermione said, standing. "Purdy?"

The little elf appeared in a spotless tea towel. "Yes, Miss?"

"Could you take Gran home?"

"Yes, Miss," Purdy said. A moment later, they were gone.

"Excuse me," Hermione said. She went out into the garden to check on her parents. Her father had his arm around her mother, and they were talking in low tones.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Hermione said. "I know Ron's heart was in the right place, but it wasn't a good idea to have everyone together like this."

Her mother held her arm out and Hermione stepped into a familiar three-way hug with her parents. She hated that her mother was so upset, but at the same time, she was incredibly grateful to be able to do this again. A moment later, her father stepped back. "I think I'm going to say our goodbyes to everyone."

Her mother wiped her eyes and nodded. Her father went into the house.

"I'm so sorry, Mum," Hermione said again.

"Don't be," her mother said. "None of this is your fault or Ron's."

Landen came out of the house. "Monica," he said, his head bowed. "I'm so sorry. I'm a foolish old man, who hasn't learned to keep his mouth shut."

Monica shook her head. "You're not foolish, but this is hard on Mum, and it puts me in an awkward position. I would like to know more about my birth mother. I'd like to know more about you, but I can't be curious in front of Mum. It hurts her."

Landen stood looking at her. "Does that…I mean…would you…can I see you then?"

Monica nodded. "I think I'd like that."

"We could meet at the Leaky Cauldron. You know where that is, yes?"

Monica nodded. "Yes."

Wen came back out of the house. "You ready?"

Monica nodded and Hermione called for Purdy to take them home.

xXx

Ron and Hermione got back to London just before midnight. They'd stayed until everyone else left the Burrow, since they were there for Hermione's birthday, but she'd fervently wished they'd all gone home when her parents left, but once the Muggles were gone, the remaining older magical couples opened up and chatted for hours. When they popped back into the foyer, Hermione headed straight upstairs for their bedroom. Ron sighed and gave her a minute while he sorted through the post. He asked Purdy for two cups of cocoa and took them upstairs. Hermione was pulling on a flannel nightshirt when he came into the bedroom. The nights were starting to get chilly, so he knew it would be several months before she went back to sleeping naked. _More's the pity_ , he thought. "Hey." He held out a cup of cocoa to her. "I'm really sorry about tonight. I thought it would be nice for you to have your whole family there."

She sighed. "It was a good thought. Unfortunately, the reality left something to be desired."

"I guess we should do Muggle things and Magical things separately from now on and not try to mix them."

Hermione sipped her cocoa and considered. "I don't think that's necessarily how we always need to do it. Mum and Dad are fine coming into the magical world. But for Gran, I think it's just too painful."

Ron nodded. "That makes sense. I mean, she's got a lot of baggage when it comes to our world."

Hermione nodded. "Indeed, but Mum seems to want to know Landen, which is understandable."

"Sure. I'd be curious if I were in her shoes."

"Me too." She took another sip of cocoa. "Thanks for this."

"I thought it might help."

She smiled at him. "It does."

The clock struck midnight and chimed. Ron smiled back at her. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"You want your presents?"

She smiled. "Can I finish my cocoa first? I might need the energy."

He shook his head. "You know, I didn't just tie a bow around my cock, right? I got you proper gifts."

"Really? Because I don't mind the improper sort." She winked at him.

He laughed. "Oh, I know, but still." He went into his side of the wardrobe and shuffled some things around until he emerged with three boxes.

"Three? You'll spoil me."

He grinned and handed her the gifts. She sat cross-legged on the bed and began opening them. Ron sat across from her and watched her reaction. First, she opened the largest box which held a set of new magpie quills, two bottles of walnut gall ink, and a roll of fine parchment. She smiled at him. "Thank you."

He nodded. "So much for the practical gifts."

She raised her eyebrows. "So, the other two are impractical?"

He shrugged.

She opened the first box to find a beautiful bottle of a French perfume that'd she'd tried on one time when she was shopping with Fleur. She'd loved the scent, but couldn't justify the cost.

"Fleur said you really liked that."

"I do, but it's so expensive." She removed the stopper and touched it to her neck.

"You're worth it," he said, smiling.

She leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you. I love it."

"Mmm, me too. Now open the last one."

The last box was thin. She opened it and gasped. Inside was a gold watch, which not only told the time, but had an inner ring on the face with two hands: one for Ron and one for Harry. There were two locations: safe and mortal peril. "We can add hands," Ron said casually. "You know, if we need to. It'll get hot on your wrist if one of us is in trouble."

"I love it." She went up on her knees and threw herself into his arms.

He chuckled as she slid her hands under his shirt. "Should I fetch a bow?"

"If you want to."

xXx

Later that day, Hermione was finishing up her location work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement when Harry came into her office. "I'm done," she said. "I sent Purdy with the scroll over to Savage."

"Great. We should have a drink to celebrate your birthday."

"I can ask Purdy to fetch Ron." Hermione got up from her desk.

"Nah, leave him, he's probably at home planning a romantic dinner. We'll be quick, just one drink."

"All right then." Hermione followed him out into the hall. As they made their way through the Ministry, Harry surreptitiously checked his watch. He'd promised to keep an eye on Hermione until six o'clock. It was five-thirty now. He slowed his pace as they reached the cavernous main hall of the Ministry. "Shall we visit ourselves?"

She looked at him, surprised that he would suggest such a thing. "Why?"

"I don't know. I haven't looked at it in a while."

"Right, because it's weird having life-sized paintings of us in the Main Hall. I never look that way."

He shrugged and walked toward the paintings. She followed. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm just…I don't know, feeling nostalgic, I guess. Maybe because it's your birthday."

"Feel nostalgic on your own birthday." They came to a stop in front of the giant painting of the three of them. Her painting-self looked down at her defiantly. "What?" the painting-Hermione asked. "It kills you to come over here?" Behind her painting-Ron and painting-Harry laughed.

The real Harry chuckled. Next to the painting of the three of them, the larger-than-life painting of him by himself shook his head. "They're always like that."

Harry looked at the real Hermione. "Yeah, alright. Let's go get that drink."

"Please." She glared at him. "Now, I feel like I need one."

The Leaky Cauldron was crowded, so it took them a while to get a table. Hermione suggested they just get a drink in the bar, but Harry insisted he wanted to sit down. Being Harry Potter had its perks though and a few minutes later they were seated. Harry ordered a Dragon Scale Ale, and Hermione ordered a glass of white wine. He perused the menu. "Do you feel like a snack?"

"I probably shouldn't, since Ron might be planning dinner."

"I'm just going to ask for some bar mix then." A moment later, their drinks came sailing toward them, and they plucked them from the air. Harry held up his hand knowing it would take a few minutes for the barmaid to get around to helping them. She waved at him in acknowledgment and he picked up his beer. "To twenty."

Hermione clinked her glass against his. "Twenty. May this year be even better than the last."

"Hear, hear. So, tell me, how do you like working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"I enjoy it. But I don't want to be an Auror, Harry."

"Perish the thought. Ron would kill me."

She took a sip of wine. "He'd kill us both."

The barmaid appeared. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Potter. What can I get you?"

"It's not a problem. I can see you're busy. Just some bar mix when you get a chance."

"Right away, sir." She hurried off.

Hermione didn't even try to suppress her amusement.

"Stop. I can't help how people act."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm so glad I don't get that."

"Right, well, back to the matter at hand. I wasn't going to suggest you join the Aurors, but Savage has been really pleased with your work, and he was wondering if you'd be interested in working with us more often. He thinks it would be useful to have someone dedicated to the research as well as to the legal side of things."

A bowl of bar mix came sailing toward the table and Harry plucked it out of the air and set it down.

"Really? In what capacity?"

"He's looking for someone to liaise with the Wizengamot."

"I think I might really enjoy that. Could I continue working with elf rights though? I don't want to leave them in the lurch."

"I knew you'd ask that. He said he doesn't see a conflict, but he could check with the Minister if you're concerned." He ate a handful of the snacks.

"I can't abandon the elves, but if I could do both, I'd definitely be interested." She checked her watch.

"Good." Harry smiled. "New watch?"

"A gift from Ron." She held it out for him to see.

He smiled when he saw the hand with his name on it. "You're still keeping an eye on me?"

"Old habits die hard. But I'm only keeping tabs on mortal peril. Ron said, if he'd asked for danger instead, I'd end up with third degree burns on my wrist."

"Smart man, your husband." Harry winked at her.

Hermione turned her wine glass between her hands. "You don't think it will bother Ginny, do you?"

"Nah. She knows you two can't help yourselves. Besides, she's of the opinion that the more people keeping tabs on me the better."

"She's not wrong. You can be reckless."

"Oh, please, look who's talking."

"Pish," she said dismissively.

He shook his head, chuckling.

xXx

Harry slowly finished his beer and the snack mix, taking his time until it was six o'clock. Hermione had finished her wine and was clearly ready to go. "I guess we should pop home."

"Yes." She stood. They headed outside and Apparated back to Heathgate. When they landed in the back garden the house was dark. "Oh," Hermione said with clear disappointment. "He's not home yet."

"I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Hermione opened the kitchen door and the shielding that had hidden the party inside collapsed. Suddenly, the night air was filled with people shouting surprise and all the candles and lamps inside were lit. The garden was filled with fairy lights. "Happy birthday," Ron said and kissed her.

"Thank you," Hermione said, grinning.

People began to spill out of the house and into the garden. Hermione went inside to find many of their classmates chatting and drinking and eating from an elaborate buffet that was set out on the kitchen table that had been expanded and covered in a festive illusion. Seamus and Dean passed by them carrying a couple of magical Victrolas. "Happy birthday, Hermione," they both said as they went by.

"Thanks," Hermione said. She looked at Ron, confused as to what was happening.

"It's a nice night," Ron explained. "I thought we'd expand out into the garden."

"I should do a sound shield," Hermione said. "I don't want to disturb the neighbors."

"Already done," Ron said. "I did learn a few things in the woods, you know."

"I know," she said, worried she'd hurt his feelings. Her concern must have crossed her face because he smiled at her.

"Relax, I'm just teasing. Come on, let me get you a drink."

She followed him to the makeshift bar set up on the kitchen counter. Since she'd already had a glass of wine, she stuck with that rather than mix in ale or spirits. Ron grabbed a Dragon Scale for himself.

xXx

The night continued with dinner and dancing. Ron was pleased to see Hermione having such a good time. He was also rather pleased with himself that it didn't bother him for her to dance with the group without him. Any time a slow song came on, he waded through the crowd and took her in his arms and her face lit up. That smile made him feel like a million galleons, like he was the luckiest guy in the world. As the night wound down into the wee hours of the morning, Dean, announced the last song. It was a ballad by the Weird Sisters. Ron smiled at Hermione and she stepped into his arms to just sway gently with him. She looked up at him expectantly and he leaned down so he could hear what she wanted to say. "I'm so lucky," she whispered in his ear. He grinned.

The crowd had dissipated by two o'clock. Luna and Rolf had come late and were sitting on one of the sofas chatting with Harry and Ginny, who were sitting across from them. Ron and Hermione joined them and sat on the remaining couch.

"Oh, goodness. I think we're the last ones here." Luna patted Rolf's leg. "We should go."

"I'm sorry we were so late getting here," Rolf explained. "It was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault," Luna said. "Broken ribs have to be mended."

"You broke your ribs?" Harry said.

"Yeah," Rolf said, blushing. "Foolish really. I forgot Hildegard was in heat. When I went to feed her, Alaine took offense to me being in the field. He only nudged me, but an Erumpent nudge is still rather a significant blow."

"I should say so," Ron said. "Those things are huge."

"Yes," Rolf said. "Bloody ribs will be sore for days now. Rotten timing and not just because of tonight's party."

"Don't worry," Luna said. "I'll help you at feeding time. But I'll be floating the Erumpent feed over the fence."

"Because you're smarter than me," Rolf said, squeezing her hand.

Luna stood. "Come on, before we overstay our welcome."

"Thank you so much for coming," Hermione said. "I had a great night."

"Good," Luna said. "I don't recall ever celebrating your birthday before."

"Yeah," Ron said. "We haven't been good about that."

"The timing was bad when we were in school," Hermione said. "We were only just back and so much other stuff was going on."

"Nah," Harry said. "Your best mates were just lame."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "What was wrong with those blokes?"

Hermione shook her head. "So many things," she teased.

Luna chuckled and Rolf looked a bit confused. "Goodnight," Luna said. She led Rolf out to the back garden so they could Disapparate.

"Night," the others said.

Ginny yawned. "I've got to go to bed."

"Me too," Harry said. "Goodnight."

Hermione looked around at the house. Purdy had managed to unobtrusively clean up so that it didn't appear that there had ever been fifty people dancing and drinking and eating in the house and garden. "How does she do it? This place looks great."

Ron chuckled. "Elf magic."

"She's the best."

Ron nodded. "Absolutely. Come on, let's head up."

Hermione followed him upstairs yawning the whole way. When they were getting ready for bed, she pulled her shirt over her head and Ron looked at her exposed torso. Remembering what Rolf had said, he asked, "Did they really hurt for days?"

"What?" Hermione asked as she unhooked her bra and scrounged around for a night shirt.

"Your ribs."

She pulled on a white cotton gown and turned to face him. "I guess. I don't remember them specifically hurting. Everything hurt."

"Oh, yeah, right. Course."

"Why?" Hermione said. "You've broken bones. When you broke your leg, did it hurt for days?"

"Yeah, a few," Ron said, but I was bitten by an Animagus, so it was a magical bite that broke my leg. That's why I was in the hospital wing for more than a few hours."

"Right."

"Rolf was hit by an Erumpent, also magical, but—"

"I see, I was crushed by a chandelier, which could happen to a Muggle."

Ron winced at her description. "Yeah, I just wondered if it was the same."

Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea. Like I said, everything hurt for…well…more than a few days." She pulled back the covers and got into bed.

"Right. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay. You were there. I don't mind talking about it with you. It's having to explain it to other people that's so hard." Ron got in on his side of the bed and she slid over to snuggle against him. He kissed the top of her head and she hugged him tight. He toyed with a curl, but didn't settle down to sleep. She came up on one elbow and looked at him, her forehead wrinkled in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "I've just been thinking about healing and how it works."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just have. I guess it started when we took your grandfather to St. Mungo's, and they said he got sick because he'd been away from the magical world for too long. I didn't know that could happen."

"Well, it takes a really long time. He was gone for decades."

"Right, I just…"

"What?" Hermione sat up fully.

"We really are very different from them."

"In some ways, yes, but in other ways we're very much the same."

"Yeah."

"Seriously. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ron insisted. "I've just never really thought about Muggles as being all that different before."

"How is that possible?" Hermione scoffed.

He shrugged. "I guess I just thought they were exactly like us only without wands. I never really considered that they suffered from completely different diseases, and that they took weeks or months to recover from stuff we got over in a few hours or days. There's stuff that could kill them that we don't even get."

"Yes," Hermione said. "But there are also diseases like Dragon Pox or Spattergroit that don't affect them at all. I'm not sure what the big deal is."

"The big deal is that there are Muggles in the family now," Ron said.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

Ron held up his palms. "Not that I'm unhappy about it. It's just now I have to think of all the things that could happen to your mum and dad or your gran. I have to worry about stuff I never considered before, that's all."

Her eyes softened. "You don't have to worry about the Muggles in the family. It's not as though they suddenly became Muggles. They're fine and completely capable of taking care of themselves." She cocked her head at him. "Why are you worried about this all of a sudden?"

He looked at the clock on the bedside table. "Well, I was going tell you this at dinner tonight but I guess since we're up…"

"What?" Hermione's forehead wrinkled with concern.

"George wants me to go on a sales trip through Europe."

"For how long?"

"Two weeks."

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"I know, it's a long time, but he's talking about making me a full partner, and I think this is kind of a test to see if I'll pull my weight."

"A full partner? You haven't said."

"I know. I wasn't sure he was serious until this trip came up, and he's been looking at stores in Hogsmeade."

"Oh, Ron, commuting to Hogsmeade every day. That will be exhausting."

"Not me. Well, not George either really."

"I don't understand."

"City life just isn't for him. He said it was fun enough when Fred was alive, but I guess he's over it now. Angelina isn't a city girl either, and I think he's going to ask her to marry him and move to Hogsmeade."

Hermione smiled. "Really? That's great."

"Yeah, but it means I'll be in charge of the London store. And we'll still need to get together to make products on a pretty regular basis. It's loads of work."

"Hence making you a full partner."

"Right. But he lost a lot of income during the war. Selling our products to other shops will help recoup those losses and expand the business."

Hermione nodded. "A sound decision."

"I think so too, but it means I'll have to travel some."

"How often?"

"A few times a year."

"I think we can manage that."

"Good," he said, letting out a sigh of relief.

"When do you leave?"

"George wants me to go on Monday, but I told him I had to run it by you first, because that's not much notice."

"Wow, so soon?"

"I know, but I told you, I think this is a bit of test."

Hermione frowned. "He shouldn't have to test you. You've bent over backwards to help him, even when you were working as an Auror."

"But I'm not Fred."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "This just isn't easy for him. George was never the leader. It's hard for him to be in that role. All of this is hard. I think a lot of the reason he wants to open the new shop is to get away from the old one. He almost never stays in the apartment they used to share. Usually, he's at Angelina's but if not, he's at the Burrow."

"At least he has Angelina."

"Yeah, but that's not exactly cut and dried either, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't exactly her first choice, was he?"

"What makes you say that?"

Ron looked at her incredulously. "I know you know she dated Fred first."

"For a few months, ages ago, because he asked her."

"Yeah, but—" Ron looked at her. "Because he asked her? You know something."

"Well…"

"Did she say something to you?"

"Not to me per se."

Ron frowned at her. "Spill."

"After Fred asked her to the ball, I was in the girls' lavatory and overheard her say to Katie Bell, that she wished George had asked instead."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious? Why didn't you say?"

"You think I should have gone to tell you about Angelina's woes concerning the Yule Ball? Really?"

Ron grimaced. "I guess not."

"Besides, that was ages ago and it's not like we had a conversation. Like I said, I overheard it. I wasn't going to go blabbing it about."

"Of course not." Ron yawned. "I've got to go to sleep."

"Me too. I can barely keep my eyes open."

Ron shifted down in the bed and she slid next to him. In spite of what she'd said, she didn't fall asleep. Two weeks apart seemed like a very long time.


	14. Traveling Salesman

The first thing Sunday morning, Hermione Apparated to her parents flat. As usual the dogs went wild at her appearance, but her father got them calmed down.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, darling?" her mother asked, handing Hermione a cup of tea."

"Ron is leaving on a business trip and needs a nice attaché. I thought you might know where I can get one."

Her mother smiled and held a hand to her heart. "You've come for shopping advise. How lovely. The shops don't open until noon though."

Hermione kissed her mother's cheek. "I'll be back." She Disapparated back to Heathgate.

Ron and Harry were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. "Where have you been?" Ron asked.

"I popped out to see Mum and Dad." Hermione took a seat and reached for the platter of bacon and eggs.

Ron set down his tea. "So early?"

"I wanted to catch Mum before she went out for the day."

"Why?" Ron asked around a mouthful of toast.

"Because you're going on a trip and you don't have luggage."

"I was just going to borrow a bag from Mum and Dad. They got a bunch of luggage when we went to Egypt."

Hermione looked at Harry who raised his eyebrows in a way that meant he wasn't going to say anything. She frowned at him. "But this is a business trip. Egypt was just touring with family. Don't you think you should have something a bit—"

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I'm going to have samples. Whatever bag I take is going with me into the shops."

"Right. And you don't want to have to do a glamor charm on the bag every time you go out."

"No. I might forget and that would be embarrassing."

Hermione was relieved that she didn't have to spell it out further. "So, Mum will know a good place to get a really nice attaché, and then I'll cast an extension charm on it like the one on my beaded bag, and you'll have what you need."

Ron looked relieved. "What would I do without you?"

"Muck about willy-nilly," Harry said.

"Thanks a lot."

Harry shrugged and stood. "I wouldn't do much better. Off to work for me then."

xXx

That night when Ron got home from work there was a beautiful, chestnut tan, Italian leather attaché on the coffee table in the parlor. Hermione came out of the study when she heard the Floo open. Ron looked at the briefcase. "Is that for me?"

"Yes, do you like it?"

Ron sat down on one of the sofas and opened the case. "It's really nice. It looks expensive."

She smiled at him. "You're worth it. The top part is normal but if you lift the flap on the bottom section, you've got a full extension charm with stairs. I installed shelves to make it easier to keep track of your samples, and there's a trunk in there for your clothes. I wish I'd known how to do all that when I cast the charm on my bag."

Ron lifted the flap and stuck his head in. "Hermione this amazing." His voice echoed.

"Thank you. I wanted it to be nice for you."

He pulled his head out and stood to kiss her. "Thank you so much. He held her loosely in his arms and looked at her. She was biting the corner of her lip, and he knew she was as nervous about him going as he was, but he suspected it was for completely different reasons. He was nervous about messing up, about not making enough sales, about letting George down. Hermione, he thought, just didn't want him to go, full stop. She hadn't said as much, and he knew she never would, but the idea of him so far away made her nervous. It made him anxious too, hence the ridiculous concern over Muggle ailments and injuries. "So, what's your plan while I'm away?"

"What do you mean? I've got work."

He smiled. "I know. What about in the evenings?"

"I guess Harry and I will have dinner here and things will proceed as usual."

"Isn't Gin due home in a couple of days?"

"Is she?" Hermione said her brow furrowing.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah."

"Oh, well, I'm sure I'll think of something. You won't be gone that long."

"You should go out to dinner when Harry's not home. Don't sit around here by yourself. Or maybe you could stay with Bill and Fleur or at the Burrow."

"I'm a big girl, Ron. I'm sure I'll be fine." Her words sounded confident, but her expression told a different story.

"I'll try and write, but I don't know how busy I'll be and—"

"Writing has never been your strong suit." She smiled.

"No," he admitted. "But I'll try, yeah?"

"Thanks."

"I need to start packing. I've got to get my clothes done tonight, because I've got to go in early tomorrow to collect all the samples I'm taking with me and then pick up the Portkey."

"When is it set to go?"

"Eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Right. You remember the translation spell?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

She smiled at him. "I know you are."

He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. "Are you sure? Maybe you should check before I go."

She nodded. "Maybe I should."

xXx

The next morning, Hermione bid Ron an anxious farewell. Harry had already said goodbye and left for work to give them a few minutes alone before Ron had to leave. Once Ron Disapparated, Hermione wished Harry had stayed. The house seemed cavernous when she was there alone. She'd never been so grateful to go to work.

xXx

For Ron, the following two weeks were a roller coaster ride filled with soaring highs and desperate lows and endless Portkey trips. The sales went well, which didn't really surprise him. He knew the products were good, and he managed to plaster on a smile and shake hands and let the merchandise sell itself. As it turned out, going to fifty-six funerals after the battle of Hogwarts was fairly good prep for a business trip. He knew what it was like to wear a false front to get through the day, no matter what the night before had been like, and most of the nights had been pretty bad.

He missed Hermione. He woke himself up two or three times a night reaching for her. When she wasn't there, he'd jolt awake in a panic. He had nightmares, the kind he used to have all the time, and he wondered if she was having the same problem. She hadn't said so in any of her letters. He hadn't managed a real letter, but he had sent her several postcards. He tried to keep them light. Wish-you-were-here sort of messages followed by how much he couldn't wait to see her. She had, of course, responded with two-or-three-page letters of the same neatly spaced script he remembered from the holiday letters she used to send. He was so tickled whenever one arrived. The letters were descriptions of her daily experiences and filled him both with a longing to be home and nostalgia for those holiday letters of his school days. Like his postcards, she kept her letters light. She was keeping herself busy making the rounds for dinners with friends and family. She'd spent the weekend after he left with her parents and had apparently shopped in every store in London with her mother. He smiled. Hermione's mother was a shopping juggernaut. Hermione, on the other hand, was not and found those trips exhausting.

Finally, after fourteen days going through the magical capitals of Europe, Ron picked up his last Portkey in Prague. It took him to Diagon Alley, where he deposited all the samples and gave George a quick debriefing, which was essentially, "I sold loads of product. Here's a stack of orders. I'm going home."

George was laughing as Ron stepped into the Floo and went hurdling toward Heathgate. When he stepped into the parlor, Harry was sitting on one of the sofas reading. "Hey, you're back." He stood to shake Ron's hand. "It's feels like you've been away for ages."

There was a soft cry from the kitchen, and Hermione came running into the room. She stopped short about five feet from Ron. "You're back."

"I am."

"Oh no. I forgot something somewhere. Must go find it." Harry drew his wand and Disapparated.

"Did you miss me?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

"Come on." Ron stepped toward her. "None of that."

She wiped the tear away quickly. "Sorry. It's just that's the longest we've been apart since…" She stopped and bit her lip.

"Since I abandoned you in the woods," Ron finished for her, feeling his throat tighten.

She nodded and more tears fell. "It's stupid. I knew you were coming back."

"Bad dreams?" Ron asked, but he already knew the answer. She nodded and he took her in his arms and held her tight. "I know. Me too."

She pressed her face to his chest for a moment and breathed him in, hugging him tighter. Finally, she stepped back. She wiped her face again. "What is wrong with us?"

Ron chuckled. "I don't know. I reckon we're delicate flowers now. Can't be separated or we wilt."

Hermione shook her head. "Pathetic."

He nodded and ducked his head for a kiss. She kissed him back, at first sweetly and then with more ardor. He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against him.

She pressed her palm against his chest. "Wait."

"Why? It's been too long," he insisted, but she held him off.

"Purdy?" Hermione called.

The little elf appeared in a spotless tea towel. "Yes, Miss?"

"I'm going to need the house. The whole house."

"Even my cabinet, Miss?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not there."

"Yes, Miss. Welcome back, Mr. Ron."

"Thanks, Purdy. It's nice to see you."

"You too, Mr. Ron. Have a good night, Miss." Purdy disappeared.

Hermione was pulling at his clothes the moment Purdy was gone.

Ron lifted her off her feet. "It's so good to be home."

xXx

It took three tries before they could make it all the way upstairs. Ron sat submerged in the big soaking tub in their en suite bathroom. Hermione sat in front of him with her back against his chest. They were surrounded by multicolored bubbles. He loved it when she cast that spell. I reminded him of the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, and all the things he'd imagined about her, when he'd bathed there. He smiled. Reality turned out to be a lot better than he'd imagined. She leaned her head back and kissed his neck.

"This feels so good. I really missed you."

He chuckled. "I could tell."

"Was it obvious? I was trying to be subtle."

"I'm sure no one else would have noticed."

"Oh, good," she said with mock relief.

"How was it while I was gone? Your letters made it seem like you kept pretty busy."

She sighed. "I tried. Mostly I worked and looked for places to have dinner, so I didn't have to eat alone."

"That makes sense. I hate eating alone. I had to do it a lot on this trip."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Couldn't be avoided. A few times though, I took clients out to lunch or dinner and that was nice."

"I ate dinner with your parents one night. They're doing well. Your mother is putting in a rose garden in the side yard."

"Good. She's wanted to do that for a long time."

"Yes. She's very excited about it. I also had dinner with Landen and Rosmerta one night."

"How did that go?"

"Good, I guess. They invited me, because they needed some help selling his flat in London and wanted my thoughts. Naturally, I don't know much about that, but of course, Mum and Dad do, so I suggested they would be better able to answer his questions."

"I thought he was homeless."

"I thought so too, but apparently he was just too ill to take care of himself, so he'd spend all day in the Leaky Cauldron, probably out of some innate sense that he needed to be near magic, and then go home to sleep at night."

"That's so weird. I wonder why he stayed away for so long." Ron was befuddled by Landen's actions.

"Mostly shame, I think. He profoundly regrets giving Mum away to Gran."

"I can understand that. Is he going to buy a place in Hogsmeade then?"

"Actually, I think he's living with Rosmerta now. I suspect that will continue. They seem very happy."

"That'll be quite a scandal if people find out."

"Apparently, a good scandal runs in the family."

Ron let out a soft snort. "How's your Mum doing with all this?"

"She seems better. When we went shopping, we talked quite a lot. I think it's taken a while for her to wrap her head around it all, but she seems to be okay with it now. Gran remains a sticking point, but then they've never had an easy relationship."

"Your Gran is a bit prickly."

"Yes, but it's understandable given what she's been through. She just feels so profoundly betrayed."

"I know."

"Anyway, it is what it is. One night, Ginny stayed with me while Harry was on a stakeout in Bristol. We went broom shopping and then had dinner in a private room at the Leaky Cauldron with Hannah and Neville and Luna and Rolf."

"That sounds like a fun night."

"It was."

"What kind of broom did Ginny buy?"

"I think she settled on a Firebolt."

Ron let out a low whistle. "Great broom. Pricey though."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think she lacks for money. I expect she makes a good salary with the Harpies, and it's not like she's a spendthrift. And like us, she and Harry won't have rent or a mortgage to pay so why not buy a great broom."

Ron shook his head. "I guess."

She half turned so she could look at him. "You could buy a broom like that too, you know."

"Nah. I don't need a top tier broom."

"I'm just saying, you could have one if you want one."

He shrugged. "I like my Cleansweep."

Hermione settled back against him. "For someone who complained so bitterly about money for so long, you don't seem to spend much of it now that you have it."

"I'm concerned about making it. Not so concerned about spending it. I thought I'd leave that to you."

She huffed. "I'm not my mother."

"No, thank goodness. I'm not sure we make that kind of money."

She laughed lightly.

"Although, while we're on the subject, George said I need new clothes."

Hermione turned to look at him again. "Why? What's wrong with your clothes."

"He says I don't look the part."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He says my suits are boring, not in keeping with the proprietor of a joke shop."

"Please tell me you're not planning to go buy purple velvet suits like he wears."

"Um, no. We don't want to wear matching suits. I was thinking dark green with colorful shirts or funny ties."

"You look quite good in green." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Possibly too good. Am I going to have to put protection charms on your suits to keep the other witches away?"

Ron laughed. "I don't think so, but even if every witch in the world decides they want me, I only want you."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron pulled her in for a kiss. They were soon out of the tub and into bed.

xXx

Saturday night, she and Ron went to a dinner party for Landen at her parents' flat. He'd recently been cleared by his healer to visit the Muggle world for a few hours at a time. Unfortunately, from the moment her grandmother arrived, the evening was strained.

In an attempt to break yet another awkward silence over dinner, Landen said, "This really is a lovely home you have, Monica."

"No thanks to you," Gran said acidly from the other end of the table.

Landen looked stricken. "Um, well, no. I wasn't trying to imply that I…"

Hermione had had enough. All evening her grandmother had been throwing barbs and either directly wounding someone, or at the very least, making everyone else extremely uncomfortable. She got to her feet. "Enough!" she shouted at her grandmother whose mouth dropped open in shock. "You've got to stop this. I know you're hurt over what your parents did to you, but they aren't here. So far this evening you've managed to make Landen out to be a monster and imply you didn't really want Mum at the same time. He was devastated and grief stricken when he gave her up, but you got a beautiful baby girl out of it, and I know you love her. All this vitriol you're spouting is just isolating you. Is that what you want?"

"What would you know about it?" her grandmother shouted back. "You're just a child."

"I'm not a child! I know what it's like to be abandoned, and so hurt and so angry, that it's hard to breathe much less think rationally. I understand the desire the lash out, I really do. But I also know that forgiveness got me more than I lost in the first place. It can do the same for you, Gran. You should try it before it's too late." She turned to her parents and Landen and Rosmerta. "I'm sorry for the outburst. Thank you for dinner, but I don't think I can stay for dessert. Goodnight." Ron was on his feet too, so when she Disapparated, he was right behind her.

He popped into the foyer a moment later and had her in his arms before she could say anything. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"No," she said, tears spilling over. "No. I didn't say that to make you feel bad. I'm the one who's sorry."

He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. There were tears in his eyes too. "We're okay?"

"We're better than okay. We're amazing. I only said that, because I didn't want to be dismissed as a child without life experience. We might be young, but no one can say we lack experience."

Ron let out a soft snort. "That's certainly true. I bet we were the only people at dinner tonight who've ever robbed a bank."

Hermione laughed. "I don't know. Mum was pretty wild before she met dad."

"Okay," Ron laughed. "But have any of them ever flown on a dragon?"

"That I doubt." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "Let's go upstairs and be amazing."

"Grand idea," she said.

xXx

Sunday afternoon, Ron and Harry went to play Quidditch. Ron and George had traded weekends minding the shop. Hermione promised to meet them for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron and then Disapparated to her parents' flat. Instead of popping into the foyer as she would if invited, she appeared in the alley next to the building and went inside and took the elevator up to give herself a little extra time to sort out what she wanted to say. She met her father in the hallway when she got off the elevator. He was dressed for squash.

"Hullo," he said.

"Hi Dad, I thought I'd pop in and see if Mum's up for a bit of shopping."

"I'm sure she is. I'm happy you're here. I think she could use the company. I would've cancelled my match, but Stan and I have rescheduled twice already."

"Not to worry. Enjoy your game." She continued down the hall and let herself in. Her parents' Yorkshire terriers came tearing down the hall barking.

"Quiet!" her mother shouted. "Did you forget something, Wen?"

"It's me, Mum," Hermione called back.

"I'm on the balcony, come join me."

Hermione walked through the flat, followed by the terriers, to the large glass doors that lead to the balcony that ran the length of the flat and afforded a view of the park next door. Her mother sat at a small round table with a large pot of tea in front of her. She sipped from a cup as Hermione approached.

"Hi," Hermione said.

"What brings you out?" her mother asked, picking up Cleo.

"I wanted to apologize for last night."

"Don't. I think Mum rather needed to hear that actually. I'm more worried about you."

Hermione took a seat at the table. "Me? There's nothing to worry about there. I'm fine."

"Really? Because what you said last night…" Her mother shook her head. "Has he cheated on you?"

"What?" Hermione was shocked. "No, Mum. No. That's not it at all."

"But you were talking about Ron. I could see it on his face."

"Well, yes, but it's not what you think."

Her mother's brow wrinkled in concern.

Hermione sighed. "Okay. But if I tell you this, you mustn't tell anyone else. I'm serious. Not even Dad, and Ron must never know you know. It would hurt him deeply."

Her mother sat up straighter. "Of course."

"In the middle of the war, when we were on the run, Ron was hurt. It was my fault. I Splinched him out of complicated double Apparition." She shook her head. "It was awful. There was so much blood and…anyway, we got him bandaged up, but it took a long time to heal, and we had this Horcrux, which is…it's hard to explain…it's an evil thing. We had to destroy it, but we didn't know how at the time, so we had to carry it with us and it…well…it sort of…made you feel things that weren't real. Evil things. It was hard for Harry and I when we had to carry it, but it was even harder for Ron, because he was injured."

Her mother's eyes widened. "All right."

"The short of it is, that thing twisted his thinking so badly, that he thought Harry and I were consorting behind his back or conspiring against him or something, and they had a huge row and he left."

"Okay."

"No. That's not okay. We were fugitives. Harry was number one on the Ministry's Most Undesirable list. I was number two. Ron wasn't even on the list because he's a Pureblood. He…I thought they were going to hit each other, so I cast a shield between them and ended up on Harry's side. Ron stormed out, and I had to get the shield down, before I could go after him. I screamed for him not to go. I begged him, but he left anyway. It was…" She swallowed hard. "Devastating."

"I'm so sorry," her mother said.

Hermione shook her head. "I know now that he tried to get back to us straight away, but he ran into trouble, and then he couldn't find the site."

"I don't understand. Couldn't he just pop back?"

"We cast shields around our campsite, like I do around the house, only more. There was no way he could find us once we left the sight we'd been at. Unfortunately, he ran into sna—bad people, and by the time he could get back to us, we were gone."

"Oh," her mother said. "That must have been…"

"I couldn't stop crying. I felt like I'd lost everything. We weren't even really together, but I knew I loved him, knew I wanted to be with him. I'd already lost you and Dad. I just…" She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "It was awful."

"How long were you and Harry on your own?"

"Weeks. It felt like we'd be out there forever. When I finally managed to stop crying, I kind of withdrew. Harry was devastated too, so we were just going through the motions. We didn't talk much, but most importantly, I never said Ron's name."

Her mother cocked her head. "Why was that important?"

"Because the moment I did, he was able to come back to us."

"I don't—"

"Ron has something called a Deluminator. It's ostensibly able to pull and push light, but it's more than that. The night I finally said his name, he heard me through the Deluminator, he clicked it and a small ball of light appeared. He was able to use it to Apparate to where I was, only he still couldn't see the camp because of the shields, so he had to wait, hoping we'd show ourselves. Harry went outside the shields, and Ron ended up saving his life that night."

"You must have been so relieved to have him back."

"I was furious," Hermione said. "I'd never been hurt like that. I'd never felt so humiliated, so vulnerable. If Harry hadn't taken my wand, I think I might've seriously hurt Ron."

Her mother's eyes widened.

"I wasn't kidding last night when I said I understood Gran's desire to lash out. It took me longer than it should've to forgive him, and even longer to really trust him again, and longer still to let myself love him or let him love me. You know I have a temper, and I can be stubborn, but every time I've forgiven anyone for anything, they did to me, it's worked in my favor. It's not easy, but forgiveness really might be the secret to happiness."

Her mother smiled. "You really have grown up."

Hermione smiled back at her. "Which, given the last few years, is somewhat of a miracle."

"Sounds like. I wish you hadn't had to suffer all that, but it seems you're stronger for it."

"We both are."

Her mother sighed. "Good. I hope Mum heard you, but she's an old woman, set in her ways. I don't know that she can change."

"I don't either, which is why I came to apologize. Shouting at her probably didn't help."

Her mother smiled. "I don't know. Perhaps she needed that. Time will tell. What have you got planned for the rest of your day?"

"You mentioned something the other day about a new exhibit at the Wallace Collection. Interested?"

"Absolutely. I just need a moment to change."

"Great," Hermione said.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: The Annie Fitch Mysteries: Exposed Fury and Hidden Fury (available March 2,2021) and the stand alone novel: One Big Beautiful Thing, available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!


End file.
